Legacy
by Sheherazade's Fable
Summary: XMFC AU. After the events of X1, David and Kurt return to the Institute to visit their father. Unbeknownst to them and the rest of the X-men, a threat that has been building for years is about to come to fruition. Canon pairings.
1. Chapter 1

August 5, 1992

Logan groaned and rubbed his forehead. He was getting tired of waking up feeling bruised and beaten. He was irritated at being confined to bed rest after the fight on Staten Island, but he hadn't been in much position to argue with Jean.

Now things were different. He knew that he couldn't afford to hang around for too long. Then again, the school was the best chance he had at figuring out his past. Charles had been out the last time he'd been awake though, and he wasn't sure if the situation had changed.

He rubbed his forehead again and sat up.

"Bad idea."

Logan felt his back falter. He fell back onto the cot and opened his eyes. A young man with auburn hair was sitting next to him, a book in his lap. He stared down intently at the book as he made a little mark with his pencil.

"Your vitals are still too weak for you to get up," he said, "So I'd suggest getting some sleep."

Logan narrowed his eyes.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked.

"My name's David," he said, "Dr. Grey told me to make sure that you didn't get up."

"And where's she?" Logan asked.

A small smirk turned David's lips up. Logan wondered how much he knew about him, or if he was just being difficult. Logan had never seen him before, but he knew that didn't mean as much as it should at Westchester.

Logan took in his clothes: they were expensive, but they had seen better days. They were wrinkled as if from travel, and Logan could smell the road on him. There were dark circles under his eyes and his grip on the pencil seemed faulty.

"Just get here?" Logan asked.

"About twelve hours ago, yes," David said, "Dr. Grey had to go and help a patient, and you need someone with you at all times. So she told me to stay here until she got back or switched out with Ororo. It was me or my brother, so I volunteered."

For a moment Logan frowned, trying to remember just who Ororo was.

"You talkin about Storm?" he asked.

"I think she prefers Ororo when she's not on the field," David said, "In any case, don't get up."

"Kid, that's not happening," Logan grunted.

David sighed. He reached over for a mug and took a deep sip. Logan smelt black coffee. It certainly explained the dark circles under David's eyes.

"You'll just exhaust yourself," David said.

"You don't know me," Logan said.

"No, but I know some things about you," David said, "I hear you didn't want to be an X-man."

There was something tired and a little irritated about the question.

"I'm just passing through," he said.

"Not right now you're not," David said.

"Kid-" Logan began.

"I'm not an idiot. I know about your healing factor," David said, "I've studied healing factors a bit. The funny thing is that they don't do anything for exhaustion."

"That's not going to be an issue," Logan said.

"It will be though," David said, "Dr. Grey explained to me a little bit about your mutation, and a little bit about Rogue's too. She was almost dead when you tried to revive her. You'll be weak for some time."

"I've already been out for days," Logan said, "That's more than enough."

"We don't know that yet," David said, "You'll have to be patient."

"Patience isn't my strong suite," Logan said.

David stopped writing in his book.

"Your name is Logan, correct?" he asked.

"Yes," Logan snapped.

"Well then, Logan, I'm going to be frank with you," he said, "I've had just about enough of babysitting you when I'd rather be somewhere else, so I'd appreciate if you drop the attitude and try not to get yourself killed."

The voice came out low and sharp. Logan narrowed his eyes further.

"Screw you kid," he said.

He pushed himself up and got into a seated position. A moment later his limbs froze and he felt a force shove him back onto the cot. He flicked his eyes over to David. One of his hands was outstretched slightly, his fingers curling. Logan let out a frustrated breath.

"Another super kid?" Logan said.

"I'm twenty-two, thank you very much, so 'kid' is just irritating at this point," David said, "But yes, since you asked, I am telekinetic. I once stopped a car that was trying to execute a barrel roll into the shoulder of the road, so I think I can handle you. Just stay where you are and don't strain yourself. I don't want to have to explain why you need even more bed rest."

He wrote some more things down.

"Now, please be quiet. I have homework to do," he said.

"Thought you said you weren't a kid," Logan said.

"I'm in college, set to graduate with my masters in a year or so," David said, "I'm not doing this assignment very well, but I need to be doing something right now, and for some reason I just don't feel like listening to you."

"You need to work on your bedside manner," Logan said.

David broke his pencil. He sighed and tossed it aside, fishing another one out of his pocket.

"No, I don't," he said, "I'm training to be a lawyer, not a doctor."

"Then you're in the med-bay why?" Logan asked.

"It's not for your charming personality and excellent conversation skills, I can tell you that much," David said.

He put his book aside and pulled out another one. David continued writing, still not looking up at him. Logan found it irritating.

"I don't know who you think you are, but I'm not staying here," Logan snapped.

The pencil broke again. For the first time David looked up. Blue eyes glared at him. They were familiar, but harsh and cruel at the same time. Logan watched as David snapped his book shut and let out a long breath.

"I was being honest when I said that I didn't feel like dealing with you," David said, "And I don't. Right now, I'm not in the mood to argue with anyone, not even you. So shut the hell up and get some rest, okay?"

The words were so unexpected that, coupled with the familiar blue eyes, Logan stared for a moment. He got his voice back soon enough, but it was more than a little disturbing.

"Is that supposed to scare me?" Logan said.

"Don't be stupid," David said, "I doubt that would scare you. I'm just saying that you're not the only one running on a very short fuse right now, and mine is getting shorter with every second that passes and no one tells me what's-"

He stopped himself and took another deep breath. David closed his eyes and Logan saw blood start to dribble out of his nose. He wiped it away with the back of his sleeve and looked back down at his book.

"Just make this easier on both of us and stop talking," David said.

Logan continued to stare as David kept marking things down in his book. A moment later the doors opened and Jean walked in, followed by a white-haired woman carrying a doctor's bag. David looked up at them.

"Any change?" he asked.

"I'm sorry," Jean said.

David rubbed his temples. He shut his book and began gathering up his things. Jean glanced at Logan before turning her attention back to David. The white-haired woman next to him looked at him nervously.

"David," she said, "You should really get some sleep. You know that he wouldn't want-"

"I know Sharon," David said, "But, as we both know, I've never been very good at doing things that he wants. And of course..."

He pinched the bridge of his nose and looked at Logan. Logan stared back. He knew that there was something going on that he didn't know about, didn't understand. There was no point in inquiring though: he had only been with the geeks for a few days, and he didn't think he'd be there for much longer.

"Never mind," he said, "I'm heading back up there. Rahne doing well?"

"She's upstairs," Sharon said, "Sleeping. Like you should be."

David waved her away.

"You call your father yet?" he asked.

"We called him minutes after they got here," Jean said, "And Kurt's community service project knows that he's had to leave due to a family emergency. The same goes for your school. It's all been taken care of David."

"Okay, okay," David said.

Sharon put the doctor's bag onto a counter. She gave Logan a glance of mild curiosity, her nostrils flaring briefly. She turned her head back to David and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Take it easy, okay?" she asked.

"I'm fine," he said, "You should go and be with Rahne right now."

Sharon hesitated. She glanced at Jean once, who nodded. Sharon looked back at David before she left the room. Once she was gone he put his books under his arm just as a noise went off in Jean's pocket. She fished out a phone and put it up to her ear.

"Marvel," she said.

Her eyes widened.

"I understand. I'll tell him immediately," she said.

David stopped gathering his books as Jean clicked off her phone.

"Your mother just arrived," she said.

David immediately dropped his books. He held out a hand and stopped them before hitting the ground. David stumbled slightly before levitating them over to the counter. He turned to Jean.

"I'll uh, I'll be back for them later," he said.

Jean nodded and stepped out of the way. David ran towards the door. It opened for him and David headed down the hallway. Logan felt the force holding him down disappear, but he didn't move.

He waited as Jean walked over to the counter and began preparing some syringes. He didn't know what was in them, and decided that there was no point in asking. There was, however, something he was a little curious about now.

"What was that all about?" he asked.

Jean paused.

"Do you know who that was?" she asked.

"Said his name was David," Logan said.

"Yes: David. David Xavier," Jean said.

Logan paused.

"Chuck's kid?" he asked.

"The Professor has two sons," she said, "David's the older one. They were both in Boston with some friends during the attack, and they heard about a day ago what happened to their father. They came down immediately."

"So he's still out?" Logan asked.

"Yes," Jean answered.

She finished filling a syringe and put it down. Logan thought about the story.

"Must've been hell booking a flight on short notice," Logan said.

"Kurt, the Professor's younger son, can teleport," Jean said, "He took everyone back to the Institute as soon as he could."

Logan leaned back.

"And their mother?" he asked.

"Moira Xavier," Jean said, "She was up at a conference in California."

"Hm," Logan said, "Didn't know Chuck had a family."

"There wasn't much of a point in talking about it with everything that's been going on," Jean said.

Logan tilted his head, thinking about David briefly before turning his head back to Jean.

"Chuck is going to be alright, right?" he asked.

Jean gave him a helpless shrug.

"We're not sure. We don't know exactly what that was in Cerebro," she said, "We're still figuring it out. We never thought Magneto would strike us at the school: there was some unspoken rule about it between him and the Professor but..."

She shook her head.

"We just don't know now."


	2. Chapter 2

August 5, 1992

Moira walked into the lobby of Westchester. Her steps were shaky and she felt a strange sense of disconnection. She hadn't been gone for long, and she was lost. Where was she, and who was everyone? She had walked the lobby countless times since she had first met Charles, but somehow she felt like a stranger now.

In the lobby she heard a few of the students talking. Moira recognized Bobby, but not who he was talking to. The girl was listening, pulling on her white strands of hair every now and then like she wasn't used to it.

"Mom?"

Moira turned around. David was standing at the top of the stairs that led to the basement. She smiled gently at him, grateful for something to ground her again.

"David," she said.

She walked forward and hugged him. He hugged her back and Moira closed her eyes for a second. Moira breathed in and let him go, looking down the stairs.

"Is your father...?" she asked.

David shook his head.

"No change," he said.

Moira bit the inside of her cheek. In her mind she cursed Magneto. This was his fault somehow: the coincidence was too much otherwise. She didn't say anything though. Of her two sons, she knew which one was more likely to take vengeance, and that was David. That would be the last thing that they would need.

"I see," she said.

She straightened her coat.

"I'm going to go sit by your father," she said.

"I'm going there too," David said.

Moira cocked her head.

"David, you look exhausted," she said.

"I've heard that," David said, "But I'll be fine."

Despite everything Moira couldn't help but smile, this one genuine. Her son's stubbornness could be endearing at times, and it had been a long time since that stubbornness had been displayed towards her husband in anything but a hostile manner.

She didn't know what had brought on this change. Then again, maybe this was what had been lurking beneath her son's bitterness: all they'd had to do was scratch the surface. Moira was sad that it took an accident to do that, but she remembered the day that her marriage had been saved. Those circumstances hadn't been the best either.

"David, get some sleep," she said, "I'll be with your father, and if he wakes then I'll call for you at once."

David hesitated and Moira touched his shoulder.

"Please do this for me," she said.

He nodded reluctantly before hugging her again.

"It's going to be fine mom," he said.

"I know," Moira said.

Moira could hear the certainty in her voice even if she didn't feel it. She didn't know though: neither of them did. With another breath she pulled away.

"Now head upstairs," she said, "I suppose Kurt hasn't slept either?"

David shrugged and ran a hand through his hair.

"It's been complicated," he said.

"I see," Moira said, "Then he'll be joining you soon."

David gave her a lopsided smile before heading upstairs. Moira went downstairs, her hand on the stair railing. Like earlier she felt shaky and weak, as though she was doing something unfamiliar in a strange place.

She walked past one of the med-bay doors and saw Jean talking with a man who was stubbornly trying to sit up. Moira didn't pay them much attention. There were only three medical chambers, and her husband was in one of the approaching ones.

Moira found Charles's chamber with ease. Kurt was sitting next to him, his feet on the chair and his whole body leaning into a crouch. His arms were wrapped around his legs and his chin rested on his knees.

When she came in he looked up, his eyes surprised. Moira managed the same gentle smile that she had given his brother. A moment later he teleported next to her. Moira had been expecting it, but she still had to cough because of the sulfur. When it had cleared she reached out and hugged him. He hugged her back, the hug lasting longer than David's. Kurt had never been shy about being hugged, even when he'd hit his teens.

She released him and touched his cheek.

"Go to bed Kurt," she said, "I'll watch him for a while."

"But-" Kurt said.

"I already had this argument with your brother," Moira laughed, "I'm not afraid to have it with you too Kurt."

Kurt shifted his feet, his tail swishing behind him. He shoved his hands in his pockets.

"If David didn't have any luck I guess I won't either?" he asked.

"Not a bit," she said, "I'll call you if he wakes up."

Kurt nodded and, in another flash of sulfur and black smoke, he was gone. Moira stood still and looked at the spot where her son had been. She didn't want to turn around and see her husband hooked up to tubes and heart monitors, didn't want to see how bad it was.

Nonetheless, she turned. It was worse than she had thought. All of the IV's and the monitors were there, just like she had expected them to be. There was more though. Moira hadn't thought that his eyes would be open, staring sightlessly forwards. It hurt to see eyes that were so full of knowledge and compassion to suddenly become vacant.

Choking back a sob Moira sat down next to him. She reached out and took his hand in hers. It was lukewarm to her touch and Moira swallowed.

"Charles, don't do this," she said, "Not now."

Moira brought his hand up to her lips. She wasn't sure if he could hear her, but he needed to.

"It's not going to end this way," she said, "It's just not. So you're going to open your eyes again, do you understand?"

She closed her eyes, the tears finally running down her cheeks.

"Don't leave me," she said.

* * *

"Rogue?"

Rogue looked up, her gloved hands fiddling absently with the hem of her shirt. Scott looked back at her, looking somewhat uncertain. She didn't know what that look meant, and she was almost afraid to ask.

Things had been going so well before she'd run off to the train station. She had a place that valued and protected her. Rogue friend with Bobby, a boy who seemed interested in becoming more. She wasn't sure how that worked with her skin, but it was nice to have someone care about her.

She had almost thrown it all away, and she knew that she'd nearly messed everything up. Then Magneto had come and things had taken their own momentum. She had been the impetus for that, and she'd been waiting for someone to tell her that, to lecture her. She would have had it coming.

It was why she hadn't been surprised when Scott had pulled her from the lobby.

"I have someone that I would like you to meet," Scott said, "I know that the Professor wanted the two of you to meet and well..."

He swallowed and touched his sunglasses absently. Rogue raised her eyes. She wasn't in trouble? Her mind went immediately to the Professor, how he'd nearly been killed trying to find her. She understood, although she didn't know who Scott was referring to.

Things had been difficult since Staten Island. She was still thinking apprehensively about Logan. He might be better, but they weren't letting him out of med-bay just yet. She didn't know why they were keeping him so long: she'd seen him heal in the past.

If he didn't heal it would be her fault. She knew what he had done to save her, and the risk he had taken. He'd been so good to her, so protective, when all he'd been was little more than a stranger who had taken her under his wing.

"In any case, I think that you two might be able to support each other," Scott said.

She continued to look at him, still confused. Scott raised his voice when he spoke again.

"Max, you can come in," he said.

Rogue turned around as the door opened. A boy a few years younger than her stepped in. His long brown hair had been pulled back into a ponytail and his eyes were gray. There was something familiar about him, and it sent a chill up her spine, though she didn't know why.

At the same time she saw that he was wearing a turtleneck with a coat over it. It wasn't cold out. Rogue saw that he was wearing gloves and long pants too. Her eyes widened in realization.

"Rogue, this is my nephew, Max," Scott said.

Rogue glanced quickly at Scott before turning back to Max. He was Scott's nephew? They didn't look alike. She wasn't going to question it though. She kept her eyes firmly on Max as he sat down next to her.

"The two of you will be going through a similar curriculum for the next few months," Scott said, "Maybe longer. I think that now might be the right time to get to know each other a little bit."

Max glanced at Rogue. Once more she felt the chilly feeling when his eyes settled on her, but it wasn't a hostile look. Rogue just had no idea how to place it.

"You might want to check out your schedules-" Scott said.

The phone rang and Scott sighed.

"Excuse me," he said.

Scott picked up the phone.

"Scott Summers," he said.

Rogue glanced over at Max. Max watched his uncle as Scott threw his hands up.

"I'll be back," Scott said, flipping the phone shut, "Just give me a few minutes."

Rogue nodded as Scott left the room. The door shut, the snap seeming louder than Rogue had ever heard. She twisted her hands in her lap.

"What's your mutation?"

Rogue blinked.

"Pardon?" she asked.

"Your mutation," Max said.

"Right. Ah can...ah can..." Rogue said.

She ducked her head.

"Bad things happen when people touch me," she said.

"Like?" Max asked.

Rogue fiddled with the white strands in her hair.

"Ah take something from em," she said, "An they either die or go into comas."

"Oh," Max said.

There was a pause. Rogue mustered up her courage and looked over at Max.

"Is it the same thing for ya?" she asked.

Max shook his head and rubbed his neck.

"No," he said, "I um...I..."

He paused.

"I control metal," he said.

Rogue started. She remembered the train she'd boarded, the train that she had thought would take her far away from Westchester. Then Logan had come on and convinced her to come back. She had been ready to go when Magneto had boarded and the whole car seemed to turn against them.

She swallowed again. This wasn't the train station, and Max had nothing to do with Magneto.

"Why the gloves then?" she asked.

Max laughed, the sound rueful.

"A little while ago I figured out that there was a little caveat with that," he said, "I started...I started to turn living things into metal by touching them."

He raised his hands up and shook them a few times.

"Hence the gloves," he said.

Rogue looked down at her own gloves.

"Ah can't touch anyone either," she said.

"Yeah," Max said, "Sucks, doesn't it?"

Rogue rubbed her hands together. It seemed like an understatement.

"The first boy ah kissed ended up in a coma for three days," she said.

The words came out before she thought about them. Rogue sighed, wondering why she felt the urge to tell people that. It was almost as if she wanted to get it out of the way as fast as possible. Burdening people with the knowledge wasn't going to help anyone though.

"I almost killed my sister," Max said.

She blinked at him. His voice caught when he continued on.

"She's just about done with her treatments for blood poisoning," he said, "They found mercury in her. Mercury for crissakes."

He glared down at his hands.

"And all because I didn't want her to eat my fries," he said.

Max clenched his hands into fists before he turned his attention back to Rogue.

"I know how it feels," he said.

Rogue felt gratitude well up inside her. She wasn't happy that he had a mutation that would prevent him from contact for the rest of his life. However, it did make her feel a little less alone to know that someone understood what she was feeling.

"Ah know ya do," Rogue said.


	3. Chapter 3

August 7, 1992

Sharon fluffed out her hair and walked down the hall. The halls were familiar enough to her. She could still remember the times she had come over with her father and visited for summer breaks and Christmas. She had done it less when her mother had woken up.

One of her hands traced the walls. She felt a little sleepy, but she knew she didn't feel as bad as David did. He had been collected back at the hotel, but his insistence on staying awake spoke of something else. Kurt had also insisted on staying awake until his father woke or until their mother arrived. Sharon hoped that Moira would be able to talk some sense into her sons.

Sharon leaned against the wall. At least Rahne was doing alright. The manner of her arrival at the Institute, as well as the situation when they arrived, hadn't exactly been ideal. Scott was running the school and, from what it sounded like, was doing a good job. He'd given Rahne classes to look forward to.

Her friend was still shy around the rest of the students, but Sharon knew that she would get over it soon. She had gotten over her initial shyness enough to become friends with her after all. She was sure that, in time, Rahne would be able to have the life that she had deserved.

As happy as she was for her friend, Sharon wasn't sure about her own situation. Her ride to the Institute had been David, and she knew better than to ask him for a ride back home now. She didn't know how much time her parents had to spare to come down and pick her up. They would come if she asked, but she knew better than to ask. The Mutant Registration Act had been pulled, but there was still the aftermath to deal with.

She scratched the side of her head. She wasn't sure why Kelly had suddenly changed his mind. Sharon had casually mentioned it to Ororo. Ororo had gone stiff and left the room. Although Sharon had no idea what that meant, she had a feeling that it was connected to what had happened during the X-men's last engagement.

There were other implications of that though. She couldn't believe that, after decades, they had finally caught Magneto. Sharon had been further away from the fight than most of her childhood friends, but Magneto had been a sort of phantom to her. The monsters closer to her had been the Friends of Humanity and hateful people like Kelly.

It didn't really matter how close he was though. Her father and the X-men fought him. He was an overarching figure of her early childhood, an evil background presence that showed the necessity of the X-men. He had been their greatest enemy, and now he was in a plastic prison.

Sharon pushed off from the wall. The world was changing in ways that she couldn't quite comprehend, and it seemed a little shocking. She had to wonder about what else was changing, what other things would change.

It was too much. She rubbed her head, wondering if she should get out for a bit. There was a shuttle that went into the town on Saturdays. She could take that and explore for a while. The local town had probably surmised that there was a family of mutants nearby, Kurt and a few others had been going into the town for years, but she knew they didn't know that it was the school. The presence of a white-haired girl with slitted eyes wouldn't raise too many eyebrows.

She wondered if she should ask Rahne to come with her. It might be too soon to take her out of the Institute's safe walls though, and she knew it wouldn't do to push her. Even so, she should at least ask. It was the polite thing to do.

Sharon had just decided to ask her when she heard a movement to her left, almost as though something were banging against the wall. She turned her head and saw movement beneath a door. Sharon frowned and looked around to orientate herself.

She was in the east corridor, and she'd gone up two flights of stairs. That put her in the faculty residences, but this part was where the Xaviers had always lived. After a moment Sharon realized she was in front of David's room.

There was another thump. She looked back at his door, feeling uncertain. Wasn't David downstairs? It was possible that Moira had managed to get him to go upstairs for a bit, but that wouldn't explain the noises.

Sharon heard another noise, almost like a moan. It made the decision for her. She walked forward and opened the door, not bothering to knock. It wasn't locked and she was able to get in easily.

David was lying down on his bed, his hands tangled in his pillows and his eyes squeezed shut. One of his hands was hitting the headboard repeatedly, and she could see that his teeth were grinding together.

"David?" Sharon asked.

David moaned again and rolled onto his back, his eyes still shut. One of his hands went to his forehead. His fingernails dug in. Sharon swallowed before walking besides the bed, feeling uncertain.

"David," she said.

He didn't even moan, just kept digging his fingernails deeper into his skin. Blood started to trickle from his forehead. Sharon bit her lip before reaching out and shaking him as gently as she could.

"Dav-"

Sharon felt herself flung backwards. She hit the wall, clipping her head. Sharon fell to the floor and looked up at David. He had pushed himself into a seated position on the edge of the bed. His eyes were wide open and his mouth was moving wordlessly.

A second later he was in front of her, his hand touching the back of her head.

"I'm sorry Sharon," he said, "God, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

She winced as his fingers touched the back of her head. At the same time she was aware of the way his fingers were threading through her hair. It felt warm and kind, even if he was probing an area she was sure was rapidly bruising.

"Are you alright?" David asked.

"I'm fine," Sharon said, "I've had worse."

She pushed herself up.

"What was that?" she asked.

David let go of the back of her head and leaned back.

"Nightmare," he said.

"Some nightmare," Sharon said.

"Well, it's been a little strange lately," he said, "Nothing to worry about."

Sharon cocked her head. She reached out and touched his forehead. The smell of blood was so strong to her that she didn't know how David couldn't notice it. David looked at her, surprised, until her fingers came away with blood on them.

"You were trying to tear open your head," Sharon said, "I saw you. I'd hardly call that normal."

David shifted uncomfortably. He put one of his hands onto his forehead and applied pressure.

"I'll get a Band-Aid from somewhere," he said.

"I don't think that a Band-Aid is the answer to what I saw," Sharon said, wiping her fingers on the rug.

"It's fine," David said, his voice sharp and irritated.

He pulled away but Sharon grabbed his arm. He looked at her and Sharon glared at him.

"Don't lie to me," she said, "We know each other far too well for that."

He stared at her, his eyes narrowing.

"I don't want to talk about this," he said.

"Well I do," Sharon said.

She tilted her head again, this time so that her eyes could be level with his.

"Or do you want me to talk about it with your mother and brother?" Sharon said.

David's eye twitched.

"That's playing dirty," he said.

"I know, but you're being stupid," Sharon said, "So right now you need to tell me what that was about so that I know whether or not to tell them."

David sat down, giving her a sullen look. Sharon didn't release the hold on his arm. She didn't feel comfortable with what she was doing, but she knew there was a good chance that he would just run if he felt backed into a corner.

Silence stretched out between the two of them. Sharon's eyes locked with his and she waited, her grip not loosening. David sighed.

"It's the assholes inside my head," he muttered.

"Sorry?" Sharon asked.

"The assholes inside my head," David said, raising his voice slightly, "I knew it would happen when I fell asleep."

He snorted.

"They like to gloat," he said, "And they've been in good form for the past couple of hours."

Sharon let go of his arm and he jerked it away. Part of her had been afraid that he would scurry away from her as soon as she did it. Instead David stayed seated, looking at the floorboards in front of him, his eyes narrowed.

"This must be really difficult for you," Sharon said.

David glanced over at her.

"What happened to your father, and then what's going on in your head," Sharon said, "It must be difficult."

"Don't feel sorry for me," David said.

His voice cracked. Sharon watched as he swiped at his forehead, wiping away more blood.

"Please don't feel sorry for me," he said.

"I don't," Sharon said.

She put her hand on his cheek and turned his head to face hers. His skin was rough beneath her fingertips. The intimacy of the gesture was great, but she didn't know any other way to get his attention.

"I know what you're feeling," she said, "When my mother...I know that it felt like someone had cut into my heart, that nothing would ever be the same again."

David didn't say anything, and she knew that she had hit the nail on the head.

"But she woke up," Sharon said, "And you were the one who told me that she would."

"I was trying to make you feel better," David mumbled.

"I know," Sharon said, "But it helped to believe that things would get better."

David turned his head away.

"That was different," he said.

"How?" Sharon asked.

Once more David paused, but it only lasted a few seconds.

"My father and I haven't had a proper conversation in years," David said, "I haven't been able to look him in the face for even longer."

"What?" Sharon asked.

David gritted his teeth.

"Yeah, I've been good at hiding it, but I've been being a spoiled brat for the past couple of years," David said, "I blamed him for..."

He trailed off, but Sharon understood.

"I was wrong," David said.

"Yes, you were," Sharon said.

She struggled with her next words.

"But he loves you," Sharon said, "It doesn't matter if you-"

"Yes it does," David snapped, "It matters because I treated him like garbage and, on the night when I realized that I was wrong, I can't make things right! He loved me? I know that! He just needs to know..."

David buried his head in his hands.

"He needs to know that I loved him too," he said.

Sharon bit her lip again. She didn't know what to do for David, how she could help. Sharon reached out tentatively and put her arms around David. He stiffened before relaxing into her touch. Sharon bit her lip again.

"He knew," Sharon said, "I'm sure he did. And you'll be able to tell him in words when he wakes up. It'll be true if you just believe it."

David let out a choked sob. He looked up at her, his eyes somehow deeper than she had ever seen them. One of his hands moved to the side of her neck in something like a caress and Sharon breathed deeply. His eyes darkening he began to move her head closer to his.

There was a small explosion on the other side of the room. David immediately let go of her and moved outside of her grasp. She barely had time to register the hurt and shock before she saw Kurt on the other side of the room, his motions animated.

"David, Dad's awake!" he said.

David leapt to his feet. He looked over his shoulder at Sharon and held out his hand. She got to her feet and looked at him, but David didn't quite meet her eyes. He walked next to his brother and grabbed his shoulder.

"I'm ready," he said.

Kurt gave him an odd look but, a moment later, there was a flash of black smoke. Sharon took a shuddering breath. She hugged herself before leaving the room.


	4. Chapter 4

August 7, 1992

Kurt teleported himself and David into the hall outside of the med-bay's doors. His brother's eyes were wide and Kurt could tell that his hands were shaking. He ran a hand over his hair and looked up at Kurt.

David looked so uncertain, more so than Kurt had ever seen him. He didn't look as though he had gotten much rest from persistent dark circles under his eyes. Then again, he had been talking to Sharon when Kurt had come in.

It didn't really look like they had been talking though. David had stared resolutely forward and Sharon had just kept blinking. Kurt filed it away. He'd ask his brother about it later, when there wasn't so much going on.

He'd also have to ask about the cut on the forehead.

"Mom told Jean that we could come in," Kurt said.

David smiled, but even that expression was uncertain. Kurt wished that he could do something to make him feel better, but he had no idea what to say. What did you say when you knew that your brother'd had conflicting feelings towards your father for ten years?

When David had first told him just what the voices in his head had done to his life, Kurt hadn't known how to respond. The only thing he could do was offer up a silent prayer that everything would be alright, and it was the only thing he could really do now. His prayers about their father's healing had already been answered. Kurt knew that not all prayers were answered, but it never hurt to ask and have faith.

He patted his brother on the shoulder. David nodded and took a deep breath, his eyes fixed on the doors in front of them. Together they walked into the med-bay, the doors opening automatically for them.

His father was sitting up, his hand entwined with his mother's and the two of them talking in hushed whispers. Both of them looked at them when they entered. His father smiled gently and Kurt hurried to his side.

He knew immediately that David hadn't followed him. Kurt tried not to make a big deal of it, hoping that his father wouldn't notice if he didn't call attention to it. From the hurt in his father's eyes though, he could tell that he had.

Kurt wanted to shout at David to hurry up. He didn't know why his brother was hanging back, not when he'd been so worried. His calm exterior during the whole thing might have fooled anyone who hadn't grown up with him: Kurt knew exactly what David looked like when he was worried.

David's reactions to situations had always confused Kurt a little bit. He'd admired his ability to keep cool under any circumstances, but this was much more than that. Right now he was keeping himself distanced, as though he was an outsider at his own father's sickbed. Kurt hoped that his brother wasn't going to avoid being near their father just because he was awake.

His father was looking at him though, and Kurt had to say something.

"We were really worried about you," Kurt said.

His father smiled.

"There's no need," he said.

"You always say that, but you were out for a couple of days," his mother said, "I'd say that there was quite the need to be worried."

His father just shook his head slightly. Kurt cleared his throat.

"Jean said you were poisoned," Kurt said, "Something about Cerebro?"

"Poisoned might not be the right word for it, but I suppose that it's close enough," his father said.

"How would they get the access codes though?" David said.

Kurt inclined his head towards him, glad that his brother had finally spoken. It wasn't what he wanted: David's voice was clinical and slightly detached. He wasn't meeting anyone's eyes. It was a start though.

"I mean, I was under the impression that Jean and Hank installed retinal scanners into Cerebro a few years ago," David said.

His father looked uncomfortable, his eyes flitting around as he searched for words. Next to him Kurt's mother's mouth hardened into a thin line.

"We'll have to look into that later," his father said at last.

"Much later," his mother said, her voice sharp, "You need to rest right now."

His father sighed and gripped her hand tighter.

"I'm fine," he said.

He turned his head to Kurt and David.

"I am curious how the two of you got here so quickly though," he said, "I believe that you were in Boston the night that...Cerebro malfunctioned."

Kurt smiled, knowing that his relief was pouring off him in waves. He glanced back over at David, who still wasn't meeting anyone's eyes. From what little Kurt could see, he looked torn. Kurt swallowed. It was time he took charge of the situation.

"We were. It was about midnight when David called the Institute, and Scott told him what had happened," Kurt said.

"You called the Institute?" his father said, looking at David.

Kurt wondered why his brother had called the Institute too: it should have been the other way around in an emergency situation. David hadn't elaborated, and at the time Kurt had been too concerned with what David had found out from the call to bother himself with how the call had originated.

"Yes," David said.

He didn't elaborate though, his eyes flitting around. Kurt decided to take control of the conversation.

"You should've seen David," Kurt said, "As soon as he heard he made sure that he got to me and had me teleport everyone down here."

His father looked directly at David. Kurt felt his breath catch in his throat.

"You were always good in a crisis," his father said, his voice soft.

David ducked his head even further down.

"Thank you," he said.

Kurt's mother squeezed his father's hand before getting up. She wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand. Kurt only then noticed that she'd been crying, the dark circles somehow deeper under her eyes. He wondered how long she had stayed by their father's side, talking to him as he slept, watching him like a hawk for any signs of improvement.

She walked over and put her hand on Kurt's shoulder.

"Come on," she said, "You don't look like you got much sleep. We don't want you dead on your feet over the next few days."

Kurt opened his mouth to protest, but then his mother's eyes flickered over to David. Understanding dawned and he nodded. Kurt yawned too, hoping that it didn't sound too fake. His father laughed softly.

"You didn't need to stay up," he said, "None of you did."

"Charles, they're both our children. That means that they have quite a bit of me in them," his mother said, "Which, of course, means that they worry about you more than you do."

She inclined her head and smiled.

"Don't forget that," she said.

His mother smiled once more before steering Kurt out of the room. The doors opened for them and closed immediately behind them. His mother let go of his shoulder and put a hand to her forehead.

"Do you need me to teleport you to your room?" he asked, "You don't look so soon."

"That would probably be smart," she said.

She sighed and gestured to the room.

"Sorry for taking you out of there so quickly," she said, "But I think those two need to talk. I think that they've needed to talk for ten years."

His mother smiled.

"From David's expression, I think that he might be finally ready," she said.

"I hope so," Kurt said.

He tightened his grip on his mother's shoulder and, in a flash of black smoke, they two of them were gone.

* * *

David swallowed and looked at his father. The two of them stood in silence for a time and David could feel sweat gathering on his palms. He'd hoped that he would have this chance to talk to his father, but now that it had come he wasn't sure that he had the right words.

He was scared, more scared than he'd been for years. He raised his eyes to meet his father, his tongue feeling like lead.

"Father..." he said.

His father smiled at him, a smile that David knew well. It was the smile that his father gave when he tried to reassure someone that everything was going to be alright. David took his hands out of his pockets and took a seat by his bedside.

"Father, I called the Institute because I wanted to talk to you," he said.

"What about?" his father asked.

David looked down before looking back up again. He'd almost missed his chance to tell him everything that he'd been feeling, things he should have said years ago. There was no reason not to say any of it now.

"About everything," David said.

He rubbed the back of his neck.

"I know that...in the past few years...I haven't exactly been a model son-" he began.

"David, stop."

David started. His father was still smiling at him gently, but his eyes told a different story. There was hurt there, much more than David had expected. There was something else though, something that seemed strange to find in his father's eyes.

It was compassion. There was no sympathy or pity, only a strange amount of empathy. Somehow or another, his father seemed as though he understood. David stared, transfixed, as his father began to speak.

"David, life hasn't been easy for you," he said.

"It's no excuse-" David began.

"Please," his father said, holding up a hand.

He gave him a wry smile.

"You're not the only one who has things that they need to say."

David fell silent.

"I know that we haven't always seen eye to eye," his father said, "And I know that some decisions that I've made have hurt you in the past."

His father sighed. David knew he was thinking about the day that his father denied him entrance to the X-men, the day that David had run from his office, his vague anger and resentment towards his father solidifying into something that lasted for years.

"And I won't say that those have been perfect decisions," his father said, "Lord knows I've made mistakes. But...David...everything I've done...I've only tried to protect you. That's all I've ever wanted to do."

"And I know that now," David said, "I wanted to tell you that."

His father leaned back.

"David, I know that some things that I've done...you'll never quite agree with," he said, "I know that you've felt that I've held you back, but I was just worried about you. That's all it's ever been. It's had nothing to do with anything that you had done."

_Only your defects,_ a voice in David's head chuckled.

David slammed back on the voice, hitting it as hard and far as he could.

"Because I know that you're capable, that you're strong," his father said, "And I will always be proud to have you as my son."

Tears built up in David's eyes and he wiped them away.

"All this time you've tried to take care of me and all I did was push you away," David said, "I-"

"David," his father said, "Please don't apologize to me. There's no need."

His father reached out and touched David's shoulder. David wanted to tell him that, yes, there was a need for him to apologize. However, he was too scared to press he issue, too happy to hear that his father was willing to move on. So he locked the words inside of him.

David leaned forward and hugged his father. His father hugged him back, and the two sat in silence.


	5. Chapter 5

August 8, 1992

"Something wrong?"

Rogue turned away from the window. Max was standing in the doorway, his head cocked slightly. He looked a little like Scott when he did that. Sometimes she thought he looked like someone else though, and it sent shivers up her spine.

She had learned to dismiss the feeling. Max would never hurt her: he was a friend. She had only known him for a few days, but the similarities in their mutations meant that he was easy to get close to. Beyond that he was talkative and willing to share.

It wasn't romantic though. Max was kind, but he was two years younger than her. While it wasn't a big age difference, she didn't feel that way towards him. Rogue knew that he wasn't interested in her either: she wasn't sure how. They could commiserate and support each other, but not like that.

She just wished that Bobby would understand that. He had immediately looked at Max with suspicion, and she wished that he would stop. They weren't even dating yet and he was already acting like they were.

She blinked and realized that Max was still waiting for her.

"Logan left today," she said, her voice blank.

Max nodded and walked next to her.

"You were close, right?" he asked.

"Not really," she said, "Ah, ah suppose that ah didn't know him that well..."

"But that doesn't really matter, does it?" Max said.

He grinned at her.

"I heard some stories," he said, "It sounds like he cared about you."

Rogue tucked some of her hair behind her ear.

"Ah hope so," she said, "He feels like family."

Max nodded again and stuck his hands in his pockets.

"He'll come back," he said.

"Maybe," Rogue said.

"No, he will," Max said, "Either that or my uncle will track him down."

"Why?" Rogue said.

"Why else?" Max said, "He stole his bike."

Rogue laughed. Max grinned and crossed his arms.

"His favorite one too," he said, "Give it a few weeks at most. My uncle's patience can wear thin pretty fast."

She laughed again.

"Of course, if it was my dad then he'd already be out after him," Max said, "My dad doesn't like anyone touching his bikes, and I think my uncle got all the patience in the family."

"Are they that different?" Rogue asked.

"Kind of," Max said, "I think that my uncle is a bit more by-the-book then my father."

"Did he go ta school here too?" Rogue asked.

"Yep, him and my mom," Max said, "She's like me."

"She is?" Rogue asked, surprised, "Then...how did she...?"

Max looked at her in confusion for a minute before he smacked his forehead.

"She can control metal too. That's all," he said, "The skin thing is kind of unique to me."

"Ah see," Rogue said.

"I kind of wish that I took after my father when it came to mutations," Max said, "But...I can't really control that I guess."

He glanced down at his gloved hands. Rogue straightened her own gloves.

"How are your exercises coming?" he asked.

"Not bad," Rogue said, "Ah think they're relaxin, but I don't think that they're helpin."

"Well, the Professor's helped a lot of people," Max said, "I guess we're just going to have to trust him on this, as difficult as it is."

He curled and uncurled his hands.

"More than anything," he said, his voice soft, "I just want this to go away."

"Ah know," Rogue said.

"I know you do," Max said.

He let his hands hang by his side. He glanced around to make sure that they were alone before speaking again.

"My dad always counseled discipline when it came to this sort of thing," he said, "He taught me some self-defense, things like that. My mom did too. They were both X-men."

The pride in his voice was unmistakable. Rogue smiled. It sounded like it was something to be proud of. She remembered the times when she'd been saved by the X-men in Canada in New York. They were people to look up to and admire.

"They were?" she asked.

"Yeah," Max said, "And my dad was the leader before Scott."

Rogue's eyes widened and Max laughed. He looked out the window.

"He started when he was about my age," Max said, "And...just thinking about that responsibility...it makes me want to try harder to beat this."

Rogue nodded. She wondered what it must be like to have a legacy like that behind him, and to not be able to do anything because of his mutation. She was glad that he was sharing with her. Once more it was easy to get close to him.

"And ya mama?" Rogue asked.

For the first time since she met him, Max hesitated.

"She made her debut in the Brotherhood when she was eighteen," he said.

Rogue's eyes widened. He looked over at her and narrowed his eyes in defiance.

"They saved her life when she was a little girl," he said, "They indoctrinated her and trained her and told her that they were doing the right thing."

His voice was defensive. Rogue chose her words carefully.

"Ya said she was an X-man," she said.

"She figured out that they were liars when she was in her twenties and broke away," Max said, "She still wanted to fight for the cause though, so she joined the X-men. They didn't trust her at first, but my dad vouched for her. They'd had to work together on the field, and he knew she was honest when she wanted to join."

"They worked together?" Rogue asked, confused.

"Sometimes the X-men have to work with the Brotherhood," Max said, "It's an unholy alliance, but sometimes there isn't much of a choice. But she learned something from those experiences, learned who the good guys really were."

Rogue paused. She knew Max was waiting for her to speak.

"Ah think somethin like that takes courage," she said, "Standin up ta the people that raised ya."

"Right," Max said.

He seemed relieved. Rogue gestured for Max to continue.

"They fell in love, got married, had me, and after a while my dad handed the reigns over to Scott," he said, "We live in Alaska now."

He shrugged slightly.

"My parents are still up there, along with my little sister," he said.

His voice became quiet.

"Is she alrigh?" Rogue asked.

"They say she's getting better," Max said, "I hope she's okay."

"The boy ah put in a coma woke up," Rogue said, her voice cheerful.

Max smiled at her.

"I hope they can visit soon, or I can go up there," Max said, "I miss them."

Rogue thought of her own family, the people who had looked at her with disgust after they had learned what she had done. Max looked over at her and frowned.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

She bit her lip. She hadn't told him about her family yet. She had only told Logan, and only in passing. The wound was still raw. Max had been very honest with her though, and she wondered if she should return the favor.

A second later she heard a crash from the hallway. Max jerked his head towards the door, his ponytail swaying behind him. He walked up to the door, Rogue behind him. They looked down the hall just in time to see John hit the floor and slide towards them.

Rogue had only seen John a few times. He was Bobby's friend, not hers. He looked angry though and got to his feet, wiping the blood from his lip.

"So mebbe that'll teach yah ta keep ya mouth shut."

She looked to the end of the hallway. A boy was standing there, his red and black eyes all but glowing. His hair fell in messy brown clumps around his face. He walked casually towards John, flipping a deck of cards from one hand to another.

"Unless, o course, ya wanna try again," he said.

John got to his feet. The boy watched in amusement as John began to walk away, flicking his lighter on and off. Next to her she felt Max relax and Rogue looked between the two boys. What had happened?

John turned on his heel quickly and sent a ball of fire towards the boy. Rogue stepped back as the boy nimbly dodged it. It hit the carpet and the flames started to grow. She saw Max gape at it before he ran for a nearby fire extinguisher.

"Are you both insane?" he asked.

The boy laughed and absently flicked a card at John. Rogue saw that it was glowing before it landed on John's chest. There was a small explosion and John was knocked back. He almost hit Max as Max pulled the fire extinguisher out of the wall.

Max looked at him for a moment before running over to the fire. He pointed the nozzle at it and began to put it out. Rogue watched as John got to his feet and the boy began flicking the cards between his hands again.

"Got somethin ta say?" he asked.

There was a flash of black smoke between the two of them. For a minute Rogue thought that the fire had somehow gotten out of control. However, when the smoke cleared she saw a blue mutant with pointed ears. His tail swished on the ground and he held up two three-fingered hands towards John and the boy.

"Both of you, stop!"

John looked taken aback at the new mutant's presence, but the boy just sighed.

"Kurt, why can't ya just let tings take deir course?"

"Because I don't want you to burn down the Institute!" Kurt said.

The boy snorted.

"Fine," he said.

Kurt looked at Max, who threw the fire extinguisher to the side.

"Everything alright?" Kurt asked.

"Yeah," Max said.

The boy rolled his eyes and shook his head. He stopped shaking his head abruptly. Rogue felt his eyes one her, saw a strange kind of curiosity in them.

"An who might ya be?" he asked.

She immediately drew back. The boy frowned.

"Sometin wrong?" he asked.

"What the- what happened here?"

From the other end of the hall Scott walked in, his hands clenched into fists. He took a deep breath.

"You know what, on second thought, we'll save it for the Professor's office," he said.

Scott turned to Max.

"Quick thinking on your part with the fire extinguisher," he said.

Max grinned as Scott turned around to glare at the boy.

"You should know better," he said, "You weren't taught how to fight to do stupid things like this! John's younger than you!"

"And stupider," the boy snorted.

Rogue couldn't help but chuckle. She tried to hide it behind her hand, but the boy saw it and winked. John got up, his eyes flashing. He flicked the lid off the lighter again, but Scott pointed at him.

"Don't even think about it," he said.

He gestured with his hand.

"Both of you, come with me," he said.

John shoved his hands into his pockets. The boy sighed and put the cards in his pockets. He winked at Rogue again.

"See ya round chere," he said.

He nodded his head to Kurt before he and John disappeared around the corner, following Scott. Kurt rubbed his temples.

"Hang tight Max," he said, "I'll go get some cleaning supplies."

"Sure thing," Max said.

There was another flash of black smoke and Kurt disappeared. Rogue leaned against the door frame before she found her tongue.

"Who were they?" she asked.

"You're going to have to be more specific," Max said.

She gestured with her hand.

"Well, the blue one," she said.

"Well, the blue one's Kurt Xavier," Max said, "He's the Professor's younger son."

Rogue's eyes widened.

"He has sons?" she asked.

"Two. And a wife," Max said, "The sons are usually away at school though, and his wife just got back from a conference."

Rogue digested the information for a moment. She bit her lip before asking her other question.

"An the one with the black an red eyes?" she asked.

"Him?" Max asked.

He shook his head dismissively.

"That's Remy," he said.


	6. Chapter 6

August 8, 1992

"Amanda?"

"Kurt?"

Kurt grinned and cradled the phone next to his head.

"Yeah, it's me," he said.

"What happened?" Amanda said, "The hotel said you all weren't there any more."

Kurt winced.

"We had to leave suddenly," he said.

"What do you mean?" Amanda asked, "Where are you now?"

He sat back on his bed.

"New York," he said.

"New York?" Amanda said.

"My...my father got sick," he said, "David found out when he called to check in. He had me teleport us over immediately."

Kurt wasn't sure if that was exactly what had happened, but it was better than telling her that he didn't know.

"Oh my God," Amanda said.

The sympathy in her tone was unmistakable. Kurt could just about imagine her face at the moment.

"I was pretty burned out after that, but we didn't think that my father should be left alone," Kurt said, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. It's just...with one thing and another there wasn't much time to talk."

"Kurt, don't apologize," Amanda said, "Is your father okay?"

He smiled to himself. Of course she would understand.

"Yeah, he's fine now. It's nothing long-term," Kurt said.

"Thank God for that," she said.

He heard her shift the phone.

"Are you going to come back soon?" she asked.

Her voice was tentative and Kurt smiled sadly.

"I think I'm going to have to stay here for a little while, make sure that everything is okay. My father's trying to get back on his feet and my mom's pushing for him to rest," Kurt said, "I don't think that now is a good time to leave, and beyond that, the school got pretty rattled when he got sick."

"I can imagine," Amanda said.

Her voice sounded a little sad. Kurt understood. They'd thought that they were going to have another week or so of being with each other before she moved on with the rest of the circus to California. Now they'd had that taken from them.

"I wish I could see you again," he said, "I..I could teleport over to California for a bit."

"That's pretty far from New York," Amanda said.

She was right. He'd have to make at least one overnight stop, and college would be starting soon.

"I could manage it," Kurt said.

"Kurt, I don't want you to injure yourself just to see me," Amanda said, "That's actually the last thing that I want."

"I could make it work," he said, "I can do some pretty fast consecutive jumps-"

"Kurt, this is what phones and emails are for," she said.

She laughed.

"I told you before that I could do a long-distance relationship," she said, "I'm made of pretty stern stuff. I don't give up when the going gets tough."

"I know," Kurt said, "I don't either."

He pulled the phone closer and thought of his parents downstairs. He'd have to tell them about Amanda pretty soon. So far David was the only member of his family who knew. It wasn't as though he were trying to hide her, but he was still nervous about telling his parents that he was in love with someone.

Then again, now wasn't exactly a great time. He'd hoped that Remy would have the decorum not to start up trouble immediately when he got back to the Institute, but Kurt knew that John pushed all of Remy's buttons. Between that and his father's condition, now wasn't exactly the best time either.

Kurt pulled himself into a crouch and swished his tail back and forth.

"What's going on with you right now?" he asked, "I'd love to hear."

"There's nothing new or exciting right now," she said, "It's pretty much just run of the mill things."

Kurt closed his eyes.

"I like the sound of your voice," he said, "And, to be honest, with everything that's been going on over here..."

He smiled.

"Run of the mill sounds pretty amazing," he said.

He heard Amanda breathe in on the other end.

"All right charmer," she said, her voice soft.

Kurt grinned.

"My brother wants to add a few more flips to the act and my parents are thinking about joining us for the finale of the tour," Amanda said, "Of course, I'm not sure if they're up for all of that, but I've learned to trust them..."

He closed his eyes. Normal did sound great.

* * *

"Just be careful Luna," Lorna said.

Luna nodded as she walked into the house, both of her hands in her parents'. Her footsteps wobbled once or twice, but for the most part they were fine. Alex shared a glance with Lorna. Their daughter was recovering nicely from the metal poisoning in her blood. Her face had lost its ashen color and she seemed more alert.

Alex thought back to his son, the way that he had all but fled from Luna's hospital room. He knew what it meant to have a mutation that could hurt someone, that you couldn't quite control, weren't even sure where to start.

The only solution had been to take him to Westchester as fast as he could. Alex and Lorna had been able to counsel him on how to control his powers to manipulate metal, but this was a completely different situation. They'd never seen anything like his mutation before.

Alex had wished that he could stay with him at Westchester for longer, but duty had called. He'd hoped that his son would be safe there until they could visit him, could learn control to where he could come home. Leaving Max at Westchester hadn't sat quite right with either him or Lorna, but with Luna in the hospital and the Mutant Registration Act coming before the Senate there wasn't much else that they could do.

Angel walked into the living room, her smile bright. Luna smiled at her and Angel walked up.

"Feeling better Luna?" she asked.

"Much better," Luna said.

"I've got a gift for you," Angel said.

She walked to the couch and picked up a stuffed bear. Luna grinned and Angel handed it to her.

"I'm almost too old for these Aunt Angel," Luna said.

"Not for a little while longer," Angel said.

Angel looked at Alex and Lorna, her face absolutely aching for approval. Lorna nodded and Alex inclined his head slightly. He still wasn't sure how he felt about his children's babysitter being the woman who had betrayed them at the CIA compound all those years ago. He'd only let her into their lives for Lorna's sake, and even now it was difficult to trust her in his house.

At the same time, it was obvious that she cared for both Lorna and the children. She even played nice with him, but he wasn't sure if that was an act or not. Then again, Alex was suspicious by nature. It was one of the only remnants of his old life that Westchester hadn't quite been able to cure him of.

"I got some food ready," Angel said.

"Thank you," Lorna said.

She looked down at Luna.

"We can eat in the living room today," she said, "I don't want to stress you out too much."

"Thanks mom," Luna said.

Luna walked over and jumped onto one of the couch seats, still holding the bear that Angel had given her. Lorna smiled and gestured towards the kitchen.

"If you could watch her for a few minutes Angel?" Lorna asked.

"Sure thing," Angel said.

She sat down next to Luna and began chatting to her. Alex followed his wife into the kitchen. He could see the lasagna that Angel had obviously made for their return. Since she'd first dropped into his family's life she'd gotten much better at cooking. He supposed it fit the new, auntly image she was trying to build.

"She really knows how to welcome someone home," Lorna said.

"She did a good job," Alex agreed.

He put his hand on a counter.

"I was wondering," he said, "When do you think that it would be a good time to visit Westchester?"

Lorna paused, putting her hands on the counter.

"We can't all go at the same time," she said, "Luna's still weak."

"I know," Alex said.

He turned around and leaned his back against the wall.

"I think we're going to have to go in pieces again," he said.

"I thought we might," Lorna said.

She swallowed.

"I should go first," she said, "It...it's been so long since I've seen him Alex."

It had really only been around a month. Alex knew what she meant though. Max was their first born, and neither of them had imagined having him so far away when he was still so young. Alex was confident that he was doing well, they heard regularly from him, but he'd had a difficult few weeks. He needed his family with him.

"You're right," Alex said.

He rubbed his temples.

"We might want to consider relocating there for a while," Alex said.

Lorna looked at him, surprised.

"Do you think it's going to take that long for him to gain control?" Lorna asked.

Her voice was pleading.

"I have no idea," Alex said, "But...if this goes on for much longer...we don't have enough money to make fifteen trips back and forth every month."

She nodded. Lorna looked over at him and touched his face.

"It's going to be alright," she said.

He nodded and pulled her against his chest. She rested her hands on his shoulders. He could feel that she understood, a deep understanding that had come from years and years of marriage.

Sometimes Alex thought that the best decision that he'd ever made was marrying her.

"The best we can do now is to stand by him and help him as best we can," Lorna said, "He needs us right now."

"And he'll have us," Alex said.

* * *

"Dad, I think that I'll be fine by myself for a few days," Terry said, "It's just prison detail. Not exactly a big deal."

Sean rubbed the back of his neck. He'd gotten his latest assignment that morning. Normally he wouldn't mind, but he wanted time off to go to Westchester. If he couldn't, then he would have preferred Terry to have been assigned with him.

Neither of those things had happened.

"It's not you I'm worried about," he said.

Terry rolled her eyes.

"Wade can take care of himself," she said.

"Trust me, I know. All I'm asking is that you keep him away from the munitions storage," Sean said, "You know how he gets around things that go boom."

"Yeah, I do," Terry said.

She crossed her arms and looked down.

"Believe it or not, I'm not blind to why he freaks people out," she said.

Sean was glad to hear that, although he still wondered just what it was his daughter saw in the mercenary. He'd decided not to talk about the subject unless it was necessary or she brought it up. He still wasn't sure how he felt about it.

"Terry, I know," he said, "And...I'm actually glad that he's sticking around."

Terry looked up, her mouth parted in surprise. He shrugged.

"I might not like him, but I don't want you to get hurt either," Sean said, "So, the better he treats you...the better."

His daughter smiled at him. Sean wondered how she'd grown up so fast. Missing the first seven years of her life had been a great blow, and the ones that he'd gotten had gone by so quickly. They were simply precious memories now.

"Thanks," she said.

"No problem," Sean said.

Terry coughed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"We can hold down the base for a few days," Terry said, "You go off and try to figure out where Magneto got that mutant beam."

"Mutant beam makes it sound stupid," Sean said.

"No one ever gives anything good names," Terry said.

He nodded. Terry smiled again.

"Don't worry," she said, "What's the worst that could happen?"


	7. Chapter 7

August 9, 1992

Rahne finished her test and got up, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. She gnawed her tongue and walked up to the front of the classroom. She placed her test on the teacher's desk and all but fled from the classroom.

Once she was in the hallway she wiped the sweat off of her forehead, trying to calm down. She wiped her forehead again and saw Sharon coming down from the other side of the hallway.

Sharon smiled when she saw her.

"Hey, I was hoping I would catch you," she said, "There isn't much going on right now, and I was wondering if you wanted to go out and catch a movie or something."

"I'm uh, not really in the mood to go out," Rahne said.

"That's okay," Sharon said, nodding.

She paused and frowned.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Just a little nervous," Rahne said.

She glanced back at the classroom.

"I just had my first test," she said.

"Oh," Sharon said, "How'd you do?"

Rahne shifted her backpack.

"I don't know," she said.

Sharon gave her an understanding smile. She put her hand on her shoulder and started to lead her away from the classrooms.

"Know how that feels," she said.

"You can't," Rahne said, "You're smart."

"I was a thirteen-year-old who was taking classes with sixteen-year-olds in physics and biology," Sharon said, "Every single time I got a test back I worried that everyone was going to suddenly find out that I was stupid."

Rahne blinked. Sharon shrugged.

"Was it really that bad?" she asked.

"Well, there are three kinds of reactions to a student who's taking classes with people older than she is," Sharon said, "There's 'Oh man, she's really smart,' 'Whatever,' and 'Who does she think she is?'"

Sharon led her into the kitchen.

"There weren't that many of the first two types where I went to school," Sharon said.

"Oh," Rahne said.

She sat down at one of the counter chairs, slinging her backpack onto the ground. Sharon jumped up onto one of the counters and began digging through the cupboards.

"How'd you deal with that?" Rahne said.

"My dad went through the same thing when he was younger," she said, "He graduated from Harvard when he was fifteen. Then there was David. He was kind of going through the same thing with history and literature."

"David," Rahne said, grinning, "Your boyfriend."

She remembered when she had first met David. She'd immediately seen what Sharon had meant about him having beautiful eyes. There was a strange air about him though, something a little closed off despite how free he seemed with Sharon and his brother.

Sharon paused for a moment before pulling out two sodas.

"I think he tried to kiss me a few days ago," Sharon said.

Rahne gaped.

"What?" she asked.

"I'm not sure," Sharon said, "But...he was giving me this strange look...and he was tilting my head up..."

She shook her head.

"I haven't been kissed before though, so what would I know about it?" she said.

"You haven't been kissed before?" Rahne asked.

Sharon slid down the counter and sat on it for a minute.

"Why are you so surprised?" Sharon said.

Rahne chewed on her tongue. Sharon seemed to be the opposite of Rahne. She was a social creature, quick to use her wits. Rahne had never been allowed to have friends, let alone a boyfriend. She had just assumed that Sharon would have gotten out more.

"You're pretty and confident," Rahne said, feeling awkward, "I just assumed."

Sharon shook her head.

"I've had a thing for David since I was fifteen," she said, "And...with my mother in a coma, I tended to stay pretty close to home."

She shrugged.

"Don't get me wrong," she said, "I've had a few casual dates, but nothing serious. Nothing where I would let them kiss me. To me..."

Sharon looked to the side.

"Kissing just seems special," she said, "I mean, it's gross when you think about it, but everyone talks about it like it's great. It means that there must be reason for it to be special. I think the person has to be really special and..."

She trailed off and scratched her head.

"So, yeah, I haven't been kissed."

Rahne looked at the counter top, feeling awkward. When she looked up again Sharon was making a face.

"Of course, I know David had a few flings in college," she said, "I wasn't jealous though...mostly because I think I knew that it wouldn't last."

"How did you know that?" Rahne asked.

"David didn't really...he doesn't connect with a lot of people," Sharon said, "And I didn't see him relaxing it any then."

"He does seem to have a wall there," Rahne said.

"Yeah," Sharon said.

She crossed her arms.

"Then again, I think we all do to some degree," Sharon said, "It kind of comes with the territory of being different, and I think that it definitely comes with the territory of being a mutant."

Rahne couldn't argue with that. She remembered the walls that she had built herself, walls that she had only taken down because Sharon had been someone like her. She'd hoped that Sharon would be able to understand her. It was the greatest risk that she had taken in her life, and it had been the best.

"What's happening now with the two of you?" Rahne asked.

"I don't know," Sharon said, "He hasn't brought it up, and that doesn't really make a lot of sense to me."

"Me neither," Rahne said.

She cocked her head, thinking about a line she'd heard off of TV.

"Men, huh?" she asked.

"Men," Sharon said.

She got off the counter.

"You really shouldn't tease me about that around here though," she said, "I'm not even sure if we should talk about it."

She passed a soda to Rahne.

"Why not?" Rahne asked.

Sharon chuckled.

"The walls tend to have ears for that sort of thing," she said, "And when you're in a mutant college, those ears are seldom figurative."

Rahne glanced worriedly around. When she turned back Sharon burst out into laughter.

"Don't tease me about that kind of stuff!" Rahne said.

"Sorry, sorry. You know I kid," Sharon said.

She clinked her soda bottle against Rahne's. Sharon immediately started drinking hers and but Rahne paused.

"When are you going to go back home?" she asked.

Sharon paused.

"A few more days I think," she said, "My parents are already calling. They're still dealing with some of the fall out from the Mutant Registration Act, may it rot in legal limbo forever more."

"You think there's more trouble coming?" Rahne asked.

"I have no idea," Sharon said, "I have no idea why Kelly suddenly decided to change his mind. From what I saw of him it doesn't make much sense. The guy was a bastard, about as cold-hearted as they come."

She shook her head.

"Never mind," Sharon said, "I suppose that people can change sometimes, although this change seems kind of fast and sudden. Either way, I know that my parents want me down there."

"Of course," Rahne said, "Give them my regards, or whatever it is I'm supposed to give."

She threw her hands up.

"Just tell them I said hi I guess," she said.

Sharon smiled and nodded. Rahne remembered meeting Sharon's parents for the first time. She'd recognized Sharon's father from the news. It had been intimidating, but he had seemed so understanding. The very next day he had come to talk to her about taking legal steps to take her away from Craig. She had been scared, but he had made it all seem so doable.

Sharon's mother had been so kind. She hadn't even asked questions when Sharon had brought her home. All Carly had done was usher her to the kitchen where she'd started to wash her face and clean the cuts on her face with rubbing alcohol. Once she had cleaned her up she'd given her something to eat and led her to the guest bedroom. Everything was clean and soft and Rahne had fallen asleep in seconds.

It made sense that Sharon would have parents like that.

"They're glad to know that you're at the Institute," Sharon said, "My dad said that it was the safest place he knew."

Rahne looked at the soda bottle. She morphed her hand before popping the top off. It went much easier when she did that. She looked around the kitchen before turning back to the soda bottle.

"Why weren't the sodas in the fridge?" Rahne asked, "It seems like it's the logical place."

"Oh, the professors don't like having too much glass in there," Sharon said, "Not with students being kind of clumsy with their powers. Some of them are too strong for their own good, and they end up breaking things pretty fast. If you reach for the milk but use too much force, you could get a whole fridge full of broken glass."

"Huh," Rahne said.

She took a sip of her soda.

"This place is going to take a while to get used to," she said.

"That's what I felt," Sharon said.

Rahne nodded. When Sharon had originally told her about the Institute she'd told Rahne that she'd lived there for a while when her mother had gone into a coma. She told her that it was big and beautiful, and that there were people who would understand her.

In many ways it had lived up to its promise. The building was beautiful, and there were people who would understand her. The entire building seemed to be built to keep her and everyone else with a mutation safe. The professors had been kind and helped her move in despite the recent upheaval. Sharon had told her so much about the Institute, and it was all true.

Of course, there were a million other things that she couldn't have told her, like how hard the classes could be and how noisy the hallways got at times. She felt out of place in a building with so many people. There had been other people in the orphanage that she had lived in, but she had been kept away from them. Now they were all around her, chattering away and acting normal.

It was a strange feeling.

"Sometimes I feel..." she said.

Sharon leaned over the counter.

"What?" she asked.

Rahne shrugged, feeling helpless.

"Sometimes here, around all these people who are so proud of their powers," she said, "Sometimes I feel...damaged."

Sharon took her hands.

"You're not damaged Rahne," she said, "You just got dealt a difficult hand. You've played it well. And, whether you know it or not, a lot of people here had difficult hands too. They understand."

"Do you mean that?" Rahne asked.

"About not being damaged or about the people here?" Sharon said.

She squeezed her hands.

"Because they're both true," Sharon said, "And you're going to do just fine here."

Rahne looked gratefully at her friend.

"Thank you," she said.

"What for?" Sharon asked.

"Saving me, bringing me here, being you," Rahne said, "Take your pick."

"You didn't need saving," Sharon said, "All you needed was a nudge."

She grinned and let go of Rahne's hands. Rahne cocked her head.

"You know what?" she asked.

"What?" Sharon asked.

"David's the biggest moron in the world if he doesn't like you," Rahne said.

Sharon threw her head back and laughed. Rahne joined in, feeling more at home than she had felt in a long time.


	8. Chapter 8

August 11, 1992

Remy flipped his cards idly from hand to hand. He was getting bored, and he knew that didn't bode well. The last time he'd gotten bored he'd sent John flying. He supposed that there were better ways of being entertained than punching out the pyro, but none had come to mind at the moment.

It was frustrating. He hadn't been there when the X-men had needed him. They'd had to draft this Logan, wherever that moron was, to increase their numbers while he'd been in Boston watching the circus. It angered him beyond words that he'd not only been useless to his team, but he'd had to sit out on the action.

Someone had poisoned the Professor. Although the faculty were saying that he'd gotten sick, Jean had told him what she'd found. It was a serious, and highly sophisticated, form of sabotage. If Magneto had ordered Cerebro to be damaged, then it would be a clear encroachment on the unspoken treaty between him and the professor.

Remy hadn't been with the X-men long enough to know the entire history between Magneto and the Professor, but he'd been around long enough to know that there had been friendship there once. He had a vague idea that something had happened at Cuba, but no one had told him too much. Somehow what had happened had rattled the older members of the group.

There was so much he didn't know. He was still something of an outsider, despite having been at the Institute for four years. He'd fought the Brotherhood in the past, but he knew that he didn't really fit into the X-men mold.

At the same time, the X-men had been the only thing that had made any sense to him at the Institute. He'd never been particularly scholarly, and he had no plans of becoming so. It just wasn't something that he was interested in.

He didn't resent being there. Remy was grateful to David and Kurt for saving his life and taking him to a new life. He figured he would always be grateful, because the kind of debt he owed them wasn't the sort of thing that could be paid back.

Remy finished with his cards and got up. He headed out towards the common room, hoping that the TV would be open. He hadn't watched _Cheers _in a while, and he figured that he could do with some comedy at the moment.

He passed by the library as he did so, twirling one of his cards absently in his hand.

"Où say trow...trowve...le...mark?"

Remy stopped in mid-step. He winced, his hand tightening on the card he was carrying.

"Où say trow..trowvu le mark?"

He turned on his heel and walked into the library.

"Où se trouve le marché?" he said, "That's how ya say it. Where did ya get ta 'w' from? Where would-?"

He stopped in mid-sentence. A girl with brown hair with white streaks was reading from a text book. Her eyes, wide and surprised, met his. Remy flashed back to when he'd punched John out. There had been a girl there, one that he'd considered talking to later.

Scott's punishment of washing and waxing the Blackbird had gotten in the way of it, but he should have remembered.

"Ah don't speak French very well," the girl said.

Remy pocketed his card.

"No, ya don't," he said, "Lemme guess, first semester?"

"First quarter," the girl winced, "It was this or Spanish."

"Ya made a good choice," Remy said, "But dey ain't teachin it well if that's the best dey can do."

He put out his hand. The girl didn't take it and Remy put it back into his pocket, nonplussed.

"Might as well introduce myself," he said, "My name is-"

"Remy."

He grinned.

"Who told ya that?" he asked.

"Max," the girl said.

Remy nodded, remembering the few times he'd met Scott's nephew. Max wasn't terribly social. He figured it was because of that whole midas touch thing.

"An you are?" he asked.

The girl sat up straight.

"Rogue," she said.

She looked at him as though she expected him to comment. He didn't. He supposed that there were some people out there who thought that the name Gambit was a little strange too. He wasn't one to judge.

Remy sat down at the table next to her. Rogue scooted away slightly and Remy raised his eyebrows.

"Remy smell bad or sometin?" he asked.

"No, ah uh...ah need ta keep my distance from people," she said.

Remy kept his eyebrows raised, but didn't say anything.

"Okay chere," he said.

He looked at her textbook. He leaned his elbow on it. He didn't put a lot of stock in textbooks.

"Now, chere," he said, "Ya gotta learn ta say tings trough ya nose."

"What?" Rogue said.

"Not easy," Remy said, "Remy's detectin a Southern accent, innit he?"

"Yes," she said, "Mississippi."

"Woulda guessed Alabama," Remy said.

"Ya woulda guessed wrong," she said.

Remy grinned.

"Right," he said, "Now, ya gotta say it like it's flowin off ya tongue, but also comin trough your nose."

"That makes no sense," Rogue said.

"Try it," Remy said.

Rogue blew out a frustrated breath. She squinted slightly at her nose before she spoke.

"Où se...trouve le...le marché?" she said.

She blinked, looking surprised. Remy smiled at her.

"There ya go chere," he said.

He took his hand away from the textbook. As he did he almost brushed her shoulder. Rogue immediately shot backwards into the next chair, her eyes wild and scared. Remy moved back too, holding his hands up in a placating gesture.

"Remy wasn gonna touch ya chere," he said.

She took a deep breath and eased back.

"Bad things happen when people touch me," Rogue said.

Remy cocked his head.

"Like Max?" he asked.

"Not exactly," Rogue said.

There was an edge to her tone that hinted that, while she might not turn people to metal, there was something very bad about what she could do. Remy glanced over her again. He began to take inventory of the gloves, long sleeves, and scarves.

He should have noticed them earlier, especially given all of his training as a thief. Remy had to admit that he'd been a little too busy staring at her doe-like eyes and correcting her French though. Women would always be the undoing of him.

"Remy's sorry," he said, "Remy didn't mean ta intrude."

"Ah understand," Rogue said.

She watched him and Remy realized that she was waiting for him to leave. Remy turned back to her textbook. He wasn't sure if she wanted her space or if she just expected him to go, but he figured it couldn't hurt to test the waters a bit.

"Textbooks can't teach ya how ta get an accent," he said, "Dey just can't. Ya need ta hear it. Remy's advice is ta get some French films. Watch em even if ya can't understand em."

There was a long pause.

"Rogue?" he asked.

He turned his head and saw that she was looking at him strangely. He sighed.

"Rogue, for da past four years Remy's been best friends wid a man who looks like a blue demon an one dat can read his toughts," he said.

He made a face.

"An speaks perfect legal jargon," he said, "Den dere's Storm, an she can send a thunderbolt trough a man's head-"

"What are ya getting at?" Rogue said, her voice sharp.

Remy sighed again and pulled a card out of his pocket. He charged it with pink light and held it in front of his face. Rogue moved back a bit and Remy threaded the card through his fingers.

"What Remy's tryin ta say is dat we're not all tickin time bombs chere," he said.

He let the charge die from the card.

"Some of us are jus tryin ta make our way no matter how weird we be," Remy said, "An Remy's been around de Institute long enough ta recognize dos people when he sees dem."

Rogue stared at him for a moment. She looked like she wanted to say something, but he heard footsteps running into the library.

"Remy!"

Remy turned around. Max stood in the doorway, out of breath and panting.

"My uncle's looking for you," he said, "Something about drawing a target on the back of the Blackbird in wax?"

Remy laughed.

"Dat'll teach him ta make me wash it," he said.

He tipped his head to Rogue.

"Scuse me chere," he said.

* * *

Once Remy walked out of the room Max came in, shaking his head.

"He's insane," he said.

"Ah think he may be more than that," Rogue said.

"What do you mean?" Max said.

Rogue debated telling him what Remy had told her. She decided against it.

"Nothin," she said.

Max sat down next to her.

"Hey, before the whole thing with the Blackbird happened, my uncle was actually talking to me about something," he said.

"What?" Rogue asked.

Max grinned. Rogue had never seen him so excited.

"My mom's coming down in a few days," he said.

Max laughed, gripping the edge of the table. Rogue smiled at him but didn't say anything. She wasn't sure what she could or should say.

"My dad's going to follow in a few days with my sister and maybe my aunt," Max said.

He looked away. Rogue could see that his eyes were watering.

"It...it means they don't blame me," he said.

"Ah don't think they blamed you," Rogue said.

From what she'd heard, it didn't sound like his family would do something like that. Her throat tightened up as she thought about Max's family, nameless, understanding people she'd never met, people who hadn't existed in her world.

"I know," Max said, "But them visiting like this..."

He made eye contact with Rogue.

"It just means everything to me," he said.

Rogue felt the tears spill out of her eyes before she could stop them. Max frowned immediately and Rogue tried to hastily wipe her eyes.

"What's wrong?" Max asked.

"Nothin," Rogue said.

Max didn't say anything as Rogue dried her eyes.

"You don't have a family, do you?" he asked, his voice quiet.

"Not anymore," Rogue said.

There was another pause. Max reached out. Rogue instinctively flinched, but Max put his gloved hand on her shoulder anyway.

"You can have one again...if you want," he said.

His words were cautious. Rogue looked at him.

"What?" he asked.

"I can be family, if you want," Max said, "Like a cousin or something. I mean, we haven't known each other for very long, but I think we both have an idea of...well..."

He glared at his gloves for a moment before turning to her.

"You know," he said.

"Ah...ah don't understand," Rogue said.

Max rubbed the back of his neck with his spare hand.

"My aunt...she's not really my aunt," he said.

Rogue blinked.

"My mom...when she was in the Brotherhood and was real young, my aunt helped take care of her," Max said, "They were really close, almost like sisters. Years after my mom left, my aunt left too. And then she found my mom and...now she's my aunt."

He shrugged.

"What I'm trying to say is that you don't have to be related to be family," Max said, "I mean, just think about the X-men. Scott, Ororo, Jean, the Professor, they'd all die for each other. That's family, you know? And former members of the X-men, I know you don't know them, but Clarice, Calvin, Warren...they're family."

He gave her a helpless smile.

"And I mean...from what you've told me, Logan's kind of family to you too," Max said.

Rogue swallowed a lump in her throat.

"I'm just saying, we can be your family if you want," Max said.

Rogue bit her lip and nodded. She reached out and hugged Max, making sure that she didn't touch any of the exposed skin of his face. Rogue cried openly then.


	9. Chapter 9

August 12, 1992

"So, what are your current plans?"

David shifted on the couch in his father's office. It felt strange to have a normal conversation after the edge that had existed under their words for so long. Now there were no double meanings to his words, no way to try to hurt his father.

There was still that angry feeling in his head though, one that seemed to be spreading like a disease. David knew that it was just the voices, the same filth that had been injected into his system long ago. Their feelings were still there though, feelings that bled over into his own.

He had to fight them though. Already he could see, more clearly than ever before, how they had poisoned his life. It was painful just how much his father didn't know about his life. David had kept so much close to his chest for so long, unwilling to talk to his father for more than a few minutes in the past.

It was like it was mocking him for his inability to come to terms with what happened in the past. David still wasn't sure if he had come to terms with it, and he wished he knew how he could. At least he didn't blame his father anymore, saw the truth of the matter.

David cleared his throat.

"I think that I'll be able to graduate in another year or two, take the bar exam," he said, "I've been interning with a few firms, and one or two mentioned a possible job in the future."

"It sounds like you impressed them," his father said.

"Well, after you argue down several mob-paid goons with guns, everything else seems kind of anti-climactic," David said.

His father chuckled. David had only briefly told him about the encounter at the time it happened, but he had the feeling that Kurt had gone back later and told him some more of the details. It had probably been done with the hope that it would paint his brother in a better light.

"I suppose so," his father said.

His father leaned back.

"It's sort of like when I first came across your mother in full fury," he said, "Nothing shocked me after that."

"Wait, what?" David asked.

He had a hard time imagining his mother raising her voice. If anything, when she was angry, her voice just became steadier. David remembered how her eyes would narrow whenever he got into trouble, her voice firm and brokering no argument.

His father looked to the side. David wondered if he was lost in the memory. It didn't seem like it would be a particularly good memory to get lost in. When his father turned his head again David continued to look at him, his expression frank and inquisitive.

His father sighed, but it it was an amused sigh.

"She was angry at being left behind after Cuba," he said, "I thought that our position as mutants hiding from the government would put her into danger and...I wasn't exactly the man she met at a pub in England."

His father's eyes drifted over to his wheelchair before snapping back to David. David understand the look in his father's eyes, the feelings of being damaged goods, no longer fit for use.

"So yes, she was angry," his father said, "Angry that I would dare to make that decision for her about the two of us."

David nodded. He'd heard a little bit of the story between his parents when he was younger. When he got older he didn't care so much, but now that some part of him recognized that perhaps it was time to start.

"I can't think about mom being happy while her fate was decided by someone else," David said.

"No, she isn't that type of person," his father said, "She didn't appreciate me putting her into that position either, and she let me know that rather vocally. Right after we narrowly avoided a plane crash too."

"A what?" David asked.

"The Blackbird was still in testing phase for the cloaking technology," his father said.

"Aha," David said.

His father drummed his fingers against the wheelchair. David thought for a while, trying to find the right words.

"So, how did you resolve that?" he asked.

"I'm sorry?" his father said.

David cleared his throat again.

"How did you resolve that?" he asked.

"Hank did some sort of data patch, I'm not sure what-" his father said.

"No, not that," David said.

He waved his hand vaguely, still feeling lost for words. David knew it was his fault that he couldn't make the words come out, couldn't phrase the question exactly how he wanted it. His father watched him for a moment, his expression strange.

"You mean what happened between myself and your mother," he said.

David nodded, grateful.

"She stayed," his father said, "David..."

His father clasped his hands in his lap.

"I have lived so much of my life believing that people don't stay," he said, "I haven't told you much about your grandparents, but your grandfather died when I was born. Your grandmother was...absent, and I always felt alone."

His voice caught.

"I'm not sure how much you know about your aunt," his father said.

"I know enough," David said.

From his father's sudden wince David knew that his voice had come out edgy. He couldn't help it. He'd heard stories when he was little, small discussions between the X-men, of how his aunt had left. He'd looked up her profile when he'd still dreamed of becoming an X-man, studied it and read the information about her. Mystique might have been listed in the back of the book, but he'd read that she was more than proficient in hand-to-hand combat and a talented shapeshifter.

It didn't label her as the traitor that she was to her friends and family. David had also, with some anger and trepidation, taken a good look at her golden eyes and dark blue skin. Something had clicked inside his head and he'd put it aside, just like he had when he'd seen the red man with the forked tail and pointed ears.

"Then you know that she left as well," his father said, "Along with the man that I considered my best friend."

David nodded.

"And I sent your mother away too," his father said, "It was perhaps something that happened as a result of everything that had passed, my mind exaggerating my own fears. Perhaps I wanted to send her away before she could leave. You know that I...repressed her memories, but I knew it wouldn't last forever. I suppose that I just expected that she would stay away after what I'd done."

His father closed his eyes.

"And then she came back, and she stayed," his father said, "And slowly, far too slowly for her liking, I realized that I needed her. I couldn't bear to be without her and, although things haven't been perfect, I believe that our paths crossing was the best thing that has ever happened to me."

His father opened his eyes. David's hand fisted on the armchair. He tried to keep his breathing steady, but he couldn't quite manage it.

"I was always a little ashamed that she was the one who had to be brave," his father said, "It placed too much of a burden on her, more than she should have had to bear. If I had been a little bolder, a little less uncertain, then I think that things would have been easier on her."

He shrugged slightly.

"But I do not regret that we are together," he said, "I only wish that I would have done it sooner."

David looked away, feeling something strange stealing over him.

"Thank you for sharing that," he said.

"Well, it's nothing you shouldn't already know," his father said.

Guilt prickled under his skin. If he'd been a better son, then his father would have already had the opportunity to tell him everything.

_Oh God, now they're getting gushy._

David pounded the side of his head slightly. He got up, straightening his shirt. He knew his father wouldn't be fooled, but he had to at least make the appearance of pretending that everything was fine.

"Still though," David said, "I uh, thanks."

He turned to go, his mind whirring.

"It's Sharon, isn't it?"

David turned, surprised. His father was looking at him with a kind but knowing expression.

"I don't..." he said.

His words died beneath his father's expression. David sighed. He felt miserable. He hadn't told anyone how he felt about Sharon, hadn't even told Kurt. Then again, there had been too much happening to look at his feelings for too long. They seemed so unimportant.

"You don't have to say anything," his father said, "I have been paying some attention you know. You look at her as though...well, as I imagine that I looked at your mother for some time. There's so much fear that there's too many pieces of you scattered everywhere to even think of putting yourself back together, that no one should have to deal with that."

David bowed his head.

"She's my best friend," he said, "And if I...dad, I can't..."

His voice choked and he loathed himself for it.

"I can't lose her," he said, "One way or another, I can't lose her."

His father wheeled up beside him and put a hand on his arm.

"You don't have to," his father said.

"But I might," David said.

"David," his father said, "Sometimes the risk is worth it."

David didn't say anything, his heart and head hurting him. He felt as though someone had just placed weights on his shoulders, pushing him further and further into the ground.

"David, I don't worry about Kurt anywhere near as much as I worry about you," his father said suddenly.

Surprised, David turned to look at him.

"I know it sounds like a strange thing to say," his father said, "But...Kurt's an innocent in many ways. He's had some trials, and God knows that he has more ahead of him."

His father's voice was pained, and David thought of the pictures in the Brotherhood dossier, pictures Kurt had refused to look at.

"And they will try him, and some of that innocence will be lost," his father said, "That's the natural progression of things. But..."

His father sighed.

"I know all too well what happens when that progression is sped up," his father said, "And I know that it is tempting to view everything in life from behind that distortion. It's just...it comes as second nature after a while. But, David..."

His father smiled sadly. David felt like he wanted to cry.

"It doesn't have to be that way," he said, "No matter what people say, you can regain some of your innocence, some of your trust in the world and life. You just have to open yourself to it."

The tears were pricking at his eyes and David pushed them away.

"I know that it's easy to do," his father said, "And I know you have your reasons. But so did I. If I can help it, I would prefer that you not make the same mistakes that I did."

David looked back at his father, his heart thudding painfully and his head still pounding. For a moment he could barely think, but two words made their way out of his lips.

"Thank you," he said.

His father smiled, this one genuine.

"What are fathers for?" he asked.


	10. Chapter 10

August 13, 1992

Warren dragged himself down the corridor, a briefcase clutched in one hand. Everything felt like it was on fire, everything was painful. He was bleeding from his abdomen, but he'd received enough first aide to know that it wasn't life threatening. It didn't worry him.

He was worried about his other injuries though. His wings were torn and bloody. Warren knew that he was missing at least half of one. It had all happened so fast. He forced himself not to think about it as he walked on, leaving behind a trail of blood and feathers.

He leaned up against the wall and keyed in the code for the cockpit. The doors slid open and revealed the pilots. Both of them were on the floor with blood pooling from their mouths and ears. If Warren had to guess he'd suppose that they'd suffered brain trauma. He wasn't surprised.

Warren pulled himself inside and keyed in the code for the doors to lock and seal themselves. They would buy him a minute or two. Worthington Industries had done some planes during a few wars, and they knew how to build sturdy doors.

He dropped himself into the pilot's seat and the briefcase into the co-pilot's seat. The pain from his wings was crippling, but he could work through it. He looked at the controls and tried to orientate himself. The plane was on auto-pilot. Trask must have planned that they would be maintaining their course for awhile.

Trask had also planned on killing him, but since he hadn't succeeded Warren had to guess that Trask's plans were a little faulty. He smiled grimly to himself. Trask hadn't done enough research on him, didn't know about his hand-to-hand combat skills. He had no idea that Warren had been an X-man before he'd taken over Worthington Industries.

He should have known better than to go on a business trip with Trask. They had been discussing a merger for a while, had been doing business together since his fundraiser to shut down the Mutant Registration Act. On paper a merger sounded like a good idea. If Worthington and Trask Industries had combined then they might have knocked Stark off his pedestal. They were all leading technology companies, but if they'd combined they could have reached new heights.

At the same time, he'd never really trusted Trask. Trask had always seemed shifty to him, and Warren had considered ending their partnership. He figured he would make his decision after the trip. Considering that when Trask had tried to shoot him Warren had snapped his neck, he figured that the merger had been cancelled.

At least Warren had been able to destroy most of Trask's designs. He shouldn't have been so shocked that Trask was lying to him about what drove him. However, 'The Sentinel Project' sounded like something Alex would cook up as an enemy in the Danger Room. Warren had erased it completely from Trask's data banks using his portable computer. It was a small design, quite a head of its time.

He hadn't had time to investigate too fully when the next wave had come. Warren wasn't sure just how they'd gotten on the plane, but he supposed it didn't matter. What did matter was that none of the designs Trask had made on that computer were coming out of the crash. He didn't want to take any chances.

Warren winced in pain. He slumped slightly, but he had to stay awake for a while. He needed to override the auto-pilot and figure out what to do from there. He wasn't sure where he was going, but he sure as hell wasn't going to wait idly for something to happen.

He finished the override and took hold of the controls. He'd been good piloting the Blackbird. Alex had always pushed him to be a better pilot. Warren had never known why. If he ever saw him again, he'd thank him.

He doubted he would though. He'd already tried to get in contact with the X-men. After he'd killed Trask and began wiping files from his computer it was the first thing he'd thought of. For some reason his cell phone couldn't contact them. He'd never built up a strong psychic link with anyone, and it had been years since any of the telepaths at the Institute had even brushed up against his mind. He wasn't even in New York: he was nearer to Boston.

In short, no one was coming. The thought was horrifying. There was no one who could help him. However, what he could do was get a move on and keep fighting. Maybe if he acted like he could still win, then there was a chance.

Warren winced as another layer of feathers fell off his shoulders. He forced himself to stay focused, to not look at his ruined wings. He couldn't think about what had been taken from him. If he did then he'd go insane.

Footsteps thundered down the hall. He knew that he had left an easy-to-follow trail. Warren looked at the door. It was reinforced steel. He began doubting how long it would hold. He might have only prolonged the inevitable by putting it on the highest security level.

Warren looked over at the briefcase. With trembling hands he opened it. He'd recorded a video message earlier when he'd started to get an idea of the scope of the situation. It was then that he'd started to wonder if he was going to live through the night.

The file was ready to send. He keyed in the code, double checking to make sure that the message was going to Ororo Munroe. He hit the send and waited impatiently for the file to finish transferring.

Once it had he smashed the computer. He threw what was left of it to the floor and focused on the controls. He thought about Ororo. She was the best friend he'd ever had, someone who'd cared right from the beginning. He smiled to himself. She'd certainly be surprised when she found out just how much of his money and personal belongings that he'd left her.

He'd left a sizable chunk of cash to the Xavier Institute too. He wondered vaguely if they would name a wing after him. Feeling a little weak from blood loss he chuckled to himself. Wing. It was funny.

There was a loud bang on the door. Warren felt himself focusing again. There was no time to laugh. He set a course and looked at the door. There was a dent in it, and he could see where the hinges had started to give way.

He turned the plane sharply. They were almost at Boston. He heard the door continue to bend and quickly jerked the controls to the left. He plugged in a few more numbers just in time for the pounding on the door to stop.

Warren held his breath, knowing that it was unlikely that they would just give up. They hadn't even given up when he'd shot their boss. He got up from his seat and got out of the way of the door. He rolled up his shirtsleeves and waited.

He didn't have long to wait. The door gave way completely and embedded itself in the control panel. Immediately afterwards Warren felt a hand at his throat. He was lifted into the air, even as he kicked and clawed.

"You've led us on quite the merry chase, haven't you?"

The hand pulled him closer. He could feel their breath on his face.

"Having fun?"

"Take...a tic tac," Warren said, "Please."

The next thing Warren knew he hit what was left of the control panel: hard. A few dying electric shocks travelled through his wings and arms. Warren cried out as he was picked up again. He gasped for breath and kicked out, but there wasn't much of a point.

"It appears that you didn't take to your last lesson well."

Warren felt a hand on his wing and braced himself. It didn't stop him from screaming when the wing was ripped completely from his body. For a moment he saw the limb held in his opponent's hand before it was tossed aside.

"Pitiful."

He was tossed again and heard a few snapping noises. He knew his arm was broken now, and his vision was blurring. However, he could still feel the sudden drop in altitude. He was picked up and slammed against the opposite wall from the force, but he couldn't help but grin.

"What is this?"

Warren laughed. When he spoke his voice was barely a rasp.

"Did you think...I didn't...know how to fly a plane?" he said, "Surprise..."

He looked at his opponent and grinned.

"We'll just be...hitting Boston harbor...headfirst," Warren said.

He looked out the windshield. He could practically count the waves on the water now.

"Hope you like swimming jackass," Warren said.

For a moment he felt as though gravity had lost its hold on him and he was flying. Warren smiled. The best parts of his life were when he was flying. He was still smiling when the plane hit the water.

* * *

Ororo glanced over her shoulder. Scott stood on one of the catwalks, watching while Remy finished mopping the hanger. Ororo walked up next to him and looked down at Remy's progress.

"Are you going to watch him all day?" she asked.

"Someone has to," Scott said, "If I don't I'm going to find another target symbol on the Blackbird."

He shook his head.

"You'd think nineteen would be too old for this sort of thing," he said.

She laughed. She remembered all of the trouble Warren and she would get into when they were nineteen.

"Remy never really grew out of being childish," Ororo shrugged, "And he's been frustrated recently."

"I know," Scott said, "It...it must hurt to know that he couldn't help us when we needed him."

It probably hurt worse to know that he'd been at the circus of all places while they fought for their lives. If it was anyone else they might have been able to talk it out. Remy wasn't one for talking though.

"I think we just need to give him some time," Ororo said, "Or maybe we can have David or Kurt say something to him. We should probably get Kurt. I hear Kurt's good to talk to, and he might actually listen to him."

"He should be listening to us," Scott said.

"But he won't," Ororo said.

Scott nodded. Ororo felt her cell phone vibrate in her pocket. She picked it up and flipped it open, still watching Remy.

"Hello?" Ororo asked.

"Miss Ororo Munroe?"

Ororo furrowed her brow. She didn't recognize the voice.

"Yes. Who is this?" she asked.

"Miss Munroe, my name is Matthew Murdock. I'm an attorney," he said, "I'm afraid that I have some bad news for you."

Ororo stood still for a while, just listening. She knew that Scott was looking at her, but she felt as though the very floor had been ripped out from under her. Everything was blurring together. She could barely manage a response.

"You...you...you'll hear from me soon," she said.

She slammed the phone shut.

"Ororo?" Scott asked.

Ororo took a deep breath.

"There was a plane crash," she said.

She turned to face Scott, her hand clenched around her cell phone.

"Warren's dead," she said.

The next thing she knew her knees gave out and she was sobbing, her voice coming out in a high, keening wail. The cell phone was in pieces around her, but she couldn't remember dropping it. Scott was trying to keep her from hitting the floor entirely, and she thought, from somewhere far away, she could hear Remy calling her name.

Outside, a storm rolled in.


	11. Chapter 11

August 13, 1992

"Ororo."

Ororo looked up bleakly. Charles was sitting in front of her. After a moment she realized she was in his office. She couldn't remember just how she had gotten there. Had Scott brought her? She supposed that he must have, even though she didn't think that she had been carried.

Charles continued to look at her, his expression one of sympathy. Ororo wondered where Moira was. Perhaps they'd thought that too many people might frighten her or make her feel claustrophobic. She'd felt that way in the past, and she could see what they were trying to do. She'd helped out with enough students going through grief to understand.

She looked out the window. Sheets of rain and hail were pelting the windows. She knew she was doing it, but couldn't bring herself to stop it. What was the point? It was just a little rain, nothing that mattered.

"Ororo."

"Yes?" she asked.

Charles put his hand over hers.

"Ororo I-"

"Are you going to tell me to pick myself up right now?" she said, "Because I can't. Charles I...he was...I can't."

"I wasn't planning on telling you anything of the sort."

She looked up, surprised. Charles's clear blue eyes met hers.

"I know what you're feeling," he said, "Warren was my student. It's not the same, but the feelings of loss are still strong."

He sighed.

"And it's not unnatural to mourn or be upset. Repressing those feelings doesn't help," Charles said, "It's only unnatural to keep those feelings in."

Ororo bowed her head. Charles continued on.

"Whatever you need from us, you will receive it," he said, "I know that this is a difficult time for you. We won't try to interfere with your mourning."

Ororo put her spare hand to her face and cried. She thought she heard lightning somewhere in the distance.

"All the same, Ororo, you have to stop the storm," he said.

"Charles..."

"Ororo."

She took a deep breath and leaned back. A moment later she heard the rain and hail stop. She wiped her face and looked down at the ground.

"He...why did he go down with the plane?" Ororo said, "He could fly."

"I have no idea," Charles said, "And we may never know."

"He should've been fine," Ororo said.

"Life is not always as fair as it should be," Charles said.

Ororo looked down at her hands.

"I broke my cell phone," she said.

"Scott said that you smashed it on the ground," Charles said.

Ororo ran a hand through her hair.

"I guess I did," she said.

She shook her head.

"I just...I need to get in contact with whoever it was called me," she said, "I need to...I don't know, send them an email or something..."

"We can take care of that," Charles said.

"No, I can do it," Ororo said, "I can...I don't know."

She got up and wandered over to Charles's computer. She knew that he was watching her. He was worried about her, concerned about her grief. She had just lost her dearest friend, and she knew that Charles knew that. Everyone probably knew that.

She ran another trembling hand through her hair. Her hands were shaking as she typed in her password to her email. She stopped short when she saw what was at the top of the list.

"Charles..." she whispered.

Charles moved close to her. Her fingers brushed the screen as she saw the unopened message from Warren Worthington III. She looked over at Charles who nodded.

"Open it," he said.

Her fingers moved towards the mouse, but their shaking had become worse. She couldn't get a grip on the mouse.

"Dammit," she said.

Tears pricked her eyes, her vision blurring. Charles's hand engulfed hers.

"It's going to be alright," he said.

Ororo nodded and clicked on the file. She saw that a video file had been attached, and she opened it. Ororo didn't know just what it was that she had expected to see when she opened it. In hindsight she wondered if she had expected to see Warren as he had always appeared recently: well groomed and in an expensive suit, looking like he could buy the world if he wanted it.

Instead she had to take a step back when the file started playing. Warren was gripping the edge of the camera, his face grim. Blood and dirt smeared his face and she could see the shredded remnants of his wings bleeding onto his back. Charles took a sharp breath in as Warren coughed.

"Hey, Ororo," he said.

He coughed again and pushed himself further up. It hurt her to see Warren like that, but it hurt even worse to know that this was the last time she would see him.

"I don't know if I'm gonna make it," he said.

Charles glanced at her.

"If you'd rather I would leave, I will," he said.

Ororo shook her head, her eyes still glued to the screen.

"Listen to me," he said, "Trask double crossed me. He was trying to use my tech to build these things that would hunt mutants down. He was going to call them Sentinels or something weird like that."

He looked over his shoulder.

"He's kinda dead now, but I managed to erase his designs," Warren said, "I think he was planning some other stuff but..."

There was a banging noise from further away. Warren looked up, his eyes alarmed.

"Look," he said, "There's this...thing that Trask had working for him. Or with him. I'm not sure. It...he...whatever it is is coming for me. I don't have much time. But, listen to me, I'm depending on you to make sure that nothing survives this, because..."

He looked around.

"I don't think that I'm going to be around for much longer," he said.

Ororo choked back a sob and tried to steel herself for the rest of the video.

"Some of his documents...I think he was planning a hit on the Institute," Warren said, "I need you all to watch out for yourselves. I don't want anything to happen to you all...least of all you Ororo."

He smiled.

"You always stood by me," he said, "I'm sorry for leaving you with this but...you're the person I trust most in the world."

Ororo felt the tears streaming down her cheeks, but she set her face, a grim, steely feeling possessing her. There was another thump on the video and Warren swallowed. He turned to the camera and managed a smile.

"Goodbye Ororo," he said, "Tell everyone else I send my regards. It might be difficult to know what I need to do...but if I could muster up the nerve to steal Alex's boots, I think I can do this."

He leaned forward and switched off the camera. Ororo didn't look over at Charles.

"He crashed that plane," she said.

Charles didn't say anything.

"He was an excellent pilot," she said, "He crashed the plane to kill whoever was hunting him."

She gritted her teeth.

"I hope they died slowly," she said.

"Ororo," Charles said.

She looked over at him. The grief was still there, and it hurt like hell. However, now she had a cause. She turned the grief into anger, and she knew that she could translate that anger into action.

Ororo knew that many people believed that she was the calm one in the group, the one who had achieved a form of serenity. They hadn't seen what she had done to Toad. She hadn't grown calmer: she had just made her anger colder.

"I need to go to Boston," she said.

"I won't argue with that," Charles said, "But you're not going alone."

"I'll take Jean and Scott with me," Ororo said.

"That's too much," Charles said.

He rubbed his temples.

"If you take Scott too then you leave the school all but undefended," he said.

"I have no intention of leaving the school undefended," Ororo said.

"If you go with Scott and Jean then it'll weaken the school's defenses," Charles said, "He said that he might be planning an attack here."

"Trask is dead," Ororo snapped.

"And if he was simply part of something greater?" Charles asked.

Ororo clenched her hands into fists.

"Lorna is arriving tomorrow to visit her son," Ororo said, "Alex is following two days afterwards. You said you thought that Logan will be returning soon. He'll fight for Rogue if for nothing else."

"I think that he has more potential and honor than you give him credit for," Charles said, "But I won't put my students in danger like this when the threat level has just been raised, and I certainly won't put..."

He trailed off.

"Never mind," he said, "The point is, I believe that we will need to keep people back. You can call for aid once you get there, but right now it sounds like you will merely be conducting an investigation into his death."

Ororo gripped the edges of the table.

"I won't merely be doing anything," Ororo said.

"Calm yourself," Charles said, "The time when going in full force would have helped is long gone."

Charles's words clanged around in Ororo's head.

"Don't you think I don't know that?" she asked, "I know that I can't change the past, can't help him like I want to! All I want now is a chance to-"

"Avenge him," Charles finished.

Ororo fell silent.

"Ororo, listen to me," he said, "Children from around the world have come to my school to be safe. People like Alex and Lorna have put their children into my care."

"You're only saying this because your family is here," Ororo said, "Mine died in Boston."

Charles fixed her with an even look.

"Not all of it did," Charles said, "I ask you to remember that. I refuse to risk any of their safety."

Ororo bit her lip.

"Would you let me take Scott with me if I left tomorrow, once Lorna had arrived?" she asked.

Charles paused for a moment before nodding.

"Yes," he said.

"Then I'll leave once she gets here," Ororo said.

She jutted her chin up in defiance. In the distance she heard another clap of lightning.

"Your anger will not help the situation," Charles said, "If Scott goes with you, then he'll be the one leading the investigation."

"I know," Ororo said.

Charles leaned back.

"I want you to keep in close contact. I plan on alerting Sean and Terry, as well as the Rankins of what happened," he said, "I'm not sure if l have Jaime and John's numbers, but we have Hank's."

"You're going to tell all of them?" Ororo asked.

Charles nodded, his hands folding in his lap.

"I believe that this threat is much more serious than even Warren thought," Charles said.

"You really think that?" Ororo asked.

He nodded.

"Did you remember his wings?" Charles asked, "They had been shredded."

Ororo paused. The horror of Warren's injuries had all but blinded her to the exact type that he had received.

"Not torn, but shredded. I don't know of a weapon that would leave those kinds of marks," Charles said, "We both know that Warren's wings are strong. Whoever did this is either a mutant, or they have some rather alarming technology on their side."

Charles turned to her.

"Either way, it does not bode well for us," he said, "Erik may be in prison, but we have many other enemies, ones who are willing to go even further than he is for their means."

"We all know he was behind what happened to you in Cerebro," Ororo said, "You can't pretend-"

"I have no doubt that it was his orders that left me in a comatose state for days," Charles said, his voice quiet.

He wheeled his wheelchair out further.

"This should tell you something of how serious I'm taking Warren's warning," he said.


	12. Chapter 12

August 14, 1992

Lorna drove down the back roads that led to the Institute. So much of it was rolling hills and trees. She remembered the summers she had spent there, how beautiful it had been. That beauty was still the same, even if so many other things had changed.

As she drove Lorna couldn't help but feel giddy. She had brought Max a few things from home, and she hoped that it would help. She'd also gotten him some of his favorite maple fudge from the local candy shop down the road. As far as she knew they only made it there.

She hoped that Max was getting better. The sooner he got control of his mutation the sooner they could take him home. It broke her heart to have left her son at the Institute, but she didn't know of anywhere else that could help him.

Maybe Alex was right and they would have to relocate to New York again. She had hoped that Luna wouldn't have to grow up at the Institute. Luna had heard stories about the X-men, but hearing stories and growing up around them were two completely different things. Lorna didn't want her children to have too much exposure to that kind of lifestyle. Not until they were older.

She turned the corner that led to the Institute's driveway. The gates towered above her, their rusted iron singing out to her like an old song she'd heard many times before. Lorna smiled to herself.

No matter what had happened, things were looking a little better. The fight at Staten Island had gone well: none of the X-men had been killed. She wasn't sure about the Brotherhood, but she knew that her father was in jail. Lorna had decided to talk to the Professor while she was there about finding time to visit him. She knew she wouldn't be welcome, but she could never stop trying.

Thing even looked better for Max. Alex would be there soon, as well as Angel and Luna. Lorna knew that it would be the first time that Angel had ever set foot inside the Institute. She was more than a little scared, but Lorna so no reason for that fear. She wasn't a member of the Brotherhood anymore. She wasn't an X-man either. Angel was a mutant who was finding her way in the world, and people like that had always been welcome at the Institute.

She pulled up alongside the access pad. Lorna had called ahead, so punching in the key code took only seconds. She'd hate to have to climb the fence like she'd done when she was younger.

Lorna looked out the window and waved her hand. The metal keys pressed in by themselves and Lorna waited for the code to process. After a few seconds the gate opened and she smiled. Lorna was about to see her son.

She drove through, but not before she saw someone drive in beside her. Lorna immediately hit the brakes and reached out for the metal in the motorcycle. It stopped and Lorna got out of the car.

She walked over to the motorcycle, her hand still out. The man on the bike glared at her.

"This some sort o security procedure I didn't know about?" he asked.

"It is when you don't enter the key code," she said.

Lorna looked over the stranger and frowned.

"Isn't that Scott's bike?" she asked.

The man chuckled. Lorna cocked her head.

"So you're a thief who doesn't know the code to the front gate?" she asked.

"Listen, lady, I'm just here to talk to wheels," he said.

Lorna made a face.

"You're not talking about who I think you're talking about, are you?" she asked.

The man smirked. Lorna crossed her arms.

"I'm going to have to talk to the Professor," she said, "We don't just let anyone into the school. There are children here."

The man rolled his eyes. She sighed.

"Listen, if you're a regular here and I don't know you, then I'm sorry," Lorna said, "I'm kind of out of the loop here, but I prefer to be on the cautious side-"

The man snorted and started to get off his bike.

"I've had enough of telekinetics," he said, "I'm walkin, if you don't mind."

"Hey, wait!" Lorna said.

She reached out for metal, hoping that he was wearing a watch or a belt buckle that she could use. Instead she felt a great deal more metal than she'd expected. The man stared at her, frozen in place. She was equally shocked.

"Do you have a hip replacement...no," Lorna said, "That's far too extensive...what the-?"

_Lorna._

She straightened.

Professor? she thought.

_He's fine_, Charles thought, _A little unorthodox, but fine. And yes, that is Scott's bike. He's been looking for it actually. _

_Then you can tell him it's back,_ Lorna thought, _I'll be in in a minute._

_I'd like to talk to you when you have a moment, _Charles thought.

_Of course._

She released her hold on him and the man moved again, glaring at her. Lorna shrugged.

"The Professor just okayed you," she said, "Like I said, I'm out of the loop, but I'm not taking chances."

She jerked her head towards the school.

"My son's in there," she said.

"Apology accepted," the man rumbled.

"I'm not apologizing," Lorna said.

He raised his eyebrows and Lorna smiled gently.

"I'm just explaining Mr...?" she asked.

"Just call me Logan," he said, getting back on the bike.

"I'm Lorna-" she began.

Before she could finish Logan geared up the bike and drove away. Lorna shrugged and got back into her car. She started up the engine and continued driving. Her chance encounter with Logan wasn't going to ruin her good mood.

She parked in front of the Institute and walked into the lobby, her suitcases levitating behind her. She'd always taken care to buy trunks with metal buckles. Lorna had told the Professor that she would be there, so she had hoped that she wouldn't have to go on a wild goose chase for her son.

"Mom!"

Lorna turned and saw Max run up towards her. Her heart sank when she saw him. His face was still bright, if not a little worn. His clothes were completely changed. Gone were his careless t-shirts and jeans. Now he was wearing a coat, gloves and a turtleneck. He shouldn't have to dress like that.

At the same time, no matter what pain he was going through, he was her son. Lorna opened her arms and hurried forward. She hugged Max and held him tightly. Lorna noticed briefly how he moved so she wouldn't touch the skin of his face, but the important part was that he was there.

She pulled away and beamed at her son. Lorna put her hands on his shoulders. She could feel the tears in her eyes.

"I think you've grown," she said.

"Mom," Max laughed.

She put her arm around his shoulder.

"I brought you a surprise," Lorna said.

Max crossed his arms and Lorna opened one of her trunks. She pulled out the box of fudge and Max's eyes lit up.

"Seriously?" he asked, taking the box, "You brought this all the way from Alaska?"

"Yeah," Lorna said, "It might have melted a little, but-"

Before she could finish her sentence Max had already torn off the lid and popped a chunk into his mouth.

"It's sho good," he said, the fudge sticking his teeth together.

"Max, don't talk with your mouth full," Lorna said.

Max grinned.

"Max? Ah was wonderin if ya could help with-oh."

Lorna looked past Max. A girl was standing in the doorway with brown and white hair. Lorna noticed her gloves and long sleeves immediately. Max swallowed before he turned to her, trying to wipe the last of the fudge off his mouth.

"Hey Rogue," Max said.

He gestured to Lorna.

"This is my mom," he said.

"Hi," Rogue said.

Lorna put her hand out for Rogue to shake. Rogue glanced at it for a minute before she put her gloved hand in Lorna's. Lorna continued smiling.

"I'm pleased to meet you Rogue," she said.

"Ah've heard a lot about ya," Rogue said.

"Really?" Lorna asked.

She let go of Rogue's hand.

"Well, I hope you're tolerating my son," she said, "I know he can be quite the handful."

"Mom," Max moaned.

"He's a good friend," Rogue said.

Lorna nodded.

"I'm glad to hear that," she said, "He worries me with the way he takes after his father. Real troublemaker."

"Alex could be a real handful sometimes."

Lorna didn't even bother to turn around before she began speaking.

"Nice to see you again Scott," she said.

"Likewise," Scott said.

He walked beside her and rubbed his head.

"Headache?" Lorna asked.

"Yes," Scott said.

"Does that have anything to do with the guy who stole your bike?" Lorna asked.

Rogue perked up.

"Logan's back?" she asked.

"Yes," Lorna said.

She smiled and Max gave her a thumbs up. Rogue turned and hurried up the stairs.

"Nice ta meet ya Mrs. Summers!" she called over her shoulder.

"Nice to meet you too!" Lorna said.

She turned back to her son and brother-in-law.

"Are they related or something?" she asked.

"Pretty much," Max said.

"More or less," Scott said, his voice irritated.

Lorna shared a look with Max, who shrugged. She supposed that Scott didn't like Logan very much, and she knew that she would find out why later from Max. He was giving her a knowing look that just begged to share information.

_Lorna, am I interrupting anything?_

_Not really Professor_, Lorna thought.

I_ was wondering if we could have that talk._

_Give me a moment, _Lorna thought.

She walked over to Max and put her hands back on his shoulders.

"Max, I have to go talk to the Professor for a minute," she said, "I'll be right back down afterwards."

"See you then," he grinned.

Lorna let go of his shoulders and headed up the stairs. When she reached the landing she leaned over the rail and called:

"And don't eat all of that fudge in one go!"

"Awww!" Max said.

Lorna grinned and headed up to the Charles's office. It felt like she was reliving part of her life all over again, the good parts. She ran one of her hands absently against the wall, tracing the familiar patterns in the wood.

She knocked when she reached Charles's office.

"Come in."

Lorna walked in, still smiling. She was doing a lot of that that day.

"Lorna," Charles said, smiling.

"It's good to see you again," she said, walking up and shaking his hand.

"And it's good to see you," he said.

Lorna sat down in one of the chairs across from his desk. She looked around.

"Is Moira not here?" she asked.

"She's doing some tutoring at the moment," Charles said, "But she's here."

He coughed.

"It's one of the things I want to talk to you about," he said.

Lorna sat up straighter, folding her hands in her lap.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

Charles leaned back.

"I'm not sure if you've heard about Warren's death-" he said.

"It was on the news," Lorna said.

She swallowed. It was the only thing that had managed to dampen her mood. She'd tried to forget it for a bit, knowing that her son was the most important thing. She'd been doing well until Charles brought it up.

"He was a good student," she said.

"He was," Charles said, "But...before he died he gave us a warning. He believed that something was happening in Boston, and that we might be a target for attack."

She felt her heart skip a few beats.

"What sort of attack?" Lorna asked.

"We're not sure," he said, "We're sending a team to Boston, which means that we'll be a little short-staffed here."

She saw immediately what he was asking. He looked uncomfortable, and Lorna understood why. She'd always been adamant that, unless there was an emergency, she had put fighting behind her. Lorna still kept in shape, but she hadn't been an X-man since before Luna had been born.

However, this was an emergency. More than that, Max was at the school.

"I understand," she said.

She managed a small smile, the first one she'd had to force all day.

"Looks like I'll have to fish out the old uniform," she said.


	13. Chapter 13

August 14, 1992

"So we're just supposed to wait here with our heads up our asses?"

Emma looked up at Lance from the codes she was breaking. There wasn't anything interesting in them, and she was feeling bored. She couldn't believe that she'd been put on surveillance while Magneto took Mystique, Sabretooth, and Toad of all people to Staten Island.

She could understand Mystique and Sabretooth, but Toad? Emma knew that Magneto had a soft spot, or as close to a soft spot as he could have, for the annoying, disgusting mutant. He'd been friends with Lorna. Even so, Emma would have been much more valuable on that mission. Anyone could have seen that.

Instead of taking her though, he had taken Toad, and the whole thing had collapsed in on itself. Now Sabretooth was missing, Magneto was in jail, Mystique was incognito, and Toad was bedridden. If she had come to asses the damage later he'd have been dead. As it was he was still in the intensive care ward.

They really should have put down Storm when she was younger. Now she was older, and that meant that she was so much more difficult to kill.

"Well?" Lance snapped.

She looked blankly at him. Due to the nature of her diamond-skin Emma had stopped aging long ago. However, she could see the years on the faces of all the members of the X-men and the Brotherhood. They were older now, especially Magneto.

Lance wasn't the brash teenager that she had written off years ago. Now he was an asset to the team, a man who could level an entire block if he was ordered to do so. She could value a skill set like that.

Age hadn't given Lance any wisdom though.

"I believe I've already been over this. We are awaiting further instructions, or for an opportunity to present itself," Emma said, "Thus far, neither of these things have happened."

"Awaiting further instructions?" Lance snapped, "From who? Our leader's in jail and-"

"From whom," Emma said.

"What?" Lance asked.

"From 'whom,' not 'who.' That sort of thing is rather irritating," Emma said.

She enjoyed the snarl that came from his lips. Emma leaned back and crossed her arms.

"You still think you're so tough," she said, "You'd best curb that attitude before it gets you killed."

Lance's lip curled over his teeth just as Boom-Boom came in. She looked at the two of them and Emma smiled at her, folding her hands on top of the desk.

"Do you have something for me?" she asked.

"I got a call from Mystique," Boom-Boom said.

Emma waved her forward and waved her hand dismissively at Lance.

"You're dismissed," Emma said.

Lance growled and stalked out. Emma watched him go. She was prepared for the door to slam when it did, but Boom-Boom wasn't. She winced as the doorframe shook and rattled. Boom-Boom looked uncertainly at Emma. Emma shrugged.

"He's always been a hothead," she said, "You know that much better than I do."

She held her hand out.

"Phone," she said.

Boom-Boom handed her the phone before leaving the room. Emma smiled as she closed the door quietly. She liked Boom-Boom. Despite her refusal to change her silly name, she was smarter than she looked and good in a fight. She also knew how to show respect, unlike Lance.

"Emma Frost," Emma said.

"Emma, I think I have a lock on where they're keeping Magneto," Mystique said, "I also have the necessary documentation to get him out."

Emma leaned forward. Finally, things were going to get interesting again.

"What do you need?" Emma asked.

"Nothing right now. He's getting out even as we speak," Mystique said, "But be ready. We need to rendezvous when we get a chance and press forward."

One of Emma's hands absently pulled her hair and her lips pursed. Press forward. When had they not been pressing forward? Emma had never felt old, despite her longevity, but that didn't mean that she couldn't feel irritated from time to time.

They had been pressing forward resolutely for nearly thirty years. Emma had seen the Brotherhood as the next evolution of Shaw's group, one where the ego of their leader and his old sentimentalities wouldn't get in the way of the mission. It would take time, she knew, for Magneto to reach Shaw's level of strength. It hadn't mattered. Emma knew that she could be patient.

It was one of the reasons that she had protested Lorna's admittance into the group when she was a child. Such sentimentality couldn't be good for Magneto. His strange friendship with the Professor was already damning enough. She had come around when she saw that, instead of preserving her as his perfect little princess, he was molding his daughter into a warrior. Emma could get behind that.

She had been surprised when Lorna had left, of course she had been, but she had also worried that Magneto was going to lose his mind. Instead he turned bitter and even angrier than before. The announcement of Lorna's first child had only served to help that. It was one thing to know that your daughter was married and in the arms of one of your enemies: it was worse to know that she'd had a child with them.

Angel had been too soft, too sentimental. Emma was glad to see her go, although from Magneto's face when he told them she supposed he'd had a thing or two to say about that. Good. Letting her go had been a move in the right direction, a move counteracted by letting Toad come to Staten.

Emma wasn't sure just how much longer she was willing to wait for Magneto to reach where he needed to be though. She had already waited long enough, and it irritated her beyond measure that she was expected to continue to 'press forward.' She was getting tired of the lack of results, of just how long it had taken for Magneto to be willing to attack the Professor.

Maybe it was time for her to leave. The real Hellfire Club, the one that Shaw had been so insistent on patterning his group after, was still in existence. Emma might be able to go back and assume a position with them. They weren't going to do much for the mutant world, but at least they knew that. Beyond that, it would certainly be more interesting than what she was doing now.

She didn't say anything aloud though. It wasn't her style. Instead she said sweetly:

"Tell me what I need to do."

* * *

It was, in the end, too easy. Erik knew that things had changed in recent years. He'd been surprised that they had a plastic prison prepared for him. Someone had been anticipating his capture, or at least hoping for it, for a while.

All in all he'd spent little time in his jail. Charles had visited him once or twice. He apparently saw it as some sort of duty on his part. Erik certainly wouldn't have done the same for him. Then again, if Charles was in jail then the world probably had bigger problems on its hands.

He'd wondered, for a while, if Charles had known that Mystique had sabotaged Cerebro on his orders. It hadn't taken him long to realize that, despite his friend's congenial attitude, he knew. The knowledge had come when Erik had issued his challenge, told him that the prison wouldn't be able to hold him for long.

Charles had leaned in, his eyes narrowed.

"And I'll be waiting, old friend."

Without another word he had left Erik's cell. Erik had never seen Charles so sharp in his words, not since Erik had brought the Brotherhood to the school and David had been playing in the front. Perhaps his children were there now or something of the sort. He'd heard that Charles had another son now, although he'd never seen the boy.

It was easy to see Charles as someone who wanted to protect everyone, and that was true. He could create a storm to protect the people he cared about. However, few people knew that when it came to his family he was a hurricane. Erik had been that way once.

Of course, it might have just been a response to Erik's sudden breach of trust. Erik knew that damaging Cerebro would go against everything that they had never said, but it had been necessary. He had felt that, despite everything, it was worth the risk. This was the best chance he'd had in years to make the world see things his way, to finally understand.

Instead he had failed. It was a bitter pill to swallow. Part of him hadn't wanted to live after he had failed, and a very small part of him had hoped that Cyclops's beam, or the fall, would finish things.

Instead he'd woken up in a room bereft of metal with Cyclops standing on the other side of a reinforced door. He'd snarled at him then, angrier beyond measure because he'd known that he'd failed, and it had been his fault.

"Didn't have the strength to kill me did you?" Erik had asked.

Cyclops had stared back at him evenly.

"Don't think it was about killing you or not killing you," he said, "It was about having to tell Lorna that I'd killed her father, and one day having to tell my niece and nephew that I'd killed their grandfather."

Erik had narrowed his eyes, but there had been no further conversation. It always came back to the Summers, didn't it? It always came back to what they had taken from him, what they were taking from him even now. It was best not to think about it. Not anymore.

As he stepped out of his cell, the bodies of the guards littered around them, he wondered what they had expected to gain from keeping him there. He'd been told that Colonel Stryker would be in to see him soon, but that had never happened. Relief would have been too strong of an emotion to feel concerning the Colonel's sudden lack of interest, but it certainly made life more pleasant.

Erik had expected some more resistance on his way out, but the path to freedom was lightly guarded. It made him laugh. People could be so arrogant, trusting in their inventions instead of any real security. Then again, it wouldn't have really mattered. He would have killed them all anyway.

He grabbed a coat and hat to cover up his white prison uniform. It was an uncomfortable thing, but he'd have to deal with comfort later. Erik exited the building minutes before reinforcements arrived, many of them toting plastic guns. He made a quiet note of that before he slipped into the street.

It took him only minutes to run into Mystique. She was leaning against a car, waiting for him. He recognized her disguise: it was a blonde woman that she was fond of using. He supposed it was the last link she had to her past as Raven Xavier, even though she'd made some drastic alterations to it in recent years.

"Ready to go?" she asked.

"Of course my dear," he said.

He got into the passenger's side as Mystique got into the driver's.

"Did you tell Emma a rendezvous point?" he asked.

"Of course," Mystique said.

She adjusted the review mirror before she put the keys in the ignition.

"I've heard Boston's lovely this time of year," she said.


	14. Chapter 14

August 14, 1992

"I want to make this very clear to you both," Scott said, "We're on an investigation. Things are not supposed to get messy unless something goes wrong."

He looked over at Ororo. The three of them were in the teacher's conference room. With most of the teachers out for summer break it was a safe enough place to have a quick talk about strategy before they headed to Boston.

"We're not going to start anything," he said, "We need to find out the facts about Warren's death. Nothing more."

Ororo folded her arms. Scott wouldn't understand. He had never gotten on with Warren which was, at least in part, Jean's fault. Ororo was past the petty differences that they had all had as teenagers, but she knew that there had never been any real love between Warren and Scott.

Did he even feel any sorrow at the news of Warren's death? Jean had expressed her sympathies, and Scott had said some kind things, but only as their team leader. His voice was strong and compassionate, but it didn't really mean anything. He was trying to support her as a friend and a teammate, not as someone who shared her pain.

She supposed that was how it was always going to be. Warren hadn't really made any friends. She knew that he and Calvin kept a fully professional relationship until the past few years. Calvin still resented the hate he had initially received from Warren, although Ororo knew that it was because, in part, Warren hadn't apologized in later years. Ororo had done that and Calvin had finally been able to relax around her.

Then again, Warren had held his own personal brand of resentment towards everyone as time went by. Ororo had seen him let it go when Clarice and Calvin had gotten married. Ororo hadn't asked him what had happened. It was too close to acknowledging that his resentment had existed in the first place. It was the only subject that the two of them had never discussed.

Now that he was dead Ororo wished that she had talked to him about it. She wished that she had talked to him about everything, and that she had done it more often. She liked to think that, whatever it was that he had been burdening himself with, he had let it go entirely by the time he had died. It was a comforting thought.

"What's with the pow-wow?"

She looked up and saw Logan opening the door, chomping on his cigar. Scott tilted his head, his jaw tightening a bit. Logan smirked and tossed him a set of keys.

"Your bike's empty," he said.

Scott tossed the keys back. Logan caught them, his eyebrows raised.

"Fill her up," Scott said.

"Looking for someone Logan?" Ororo said.

He turned to her and chomped on his cigar again. She just caught the way his eyes flickered to Jean. Everyone always loved Jean. It wasn't a jealous thought, just a matter of fact. She never had been jealous of her friend. The attention that Jean had received from Scott and Warren had done nothing but cause trouble. She had a feeling that history was repeating itself with Logan.

It was possible that she could do something about that.

"Any of you seen Wheels around?" he asked.

"He's probably in his office," Ororo said, "I think he's discussing school matters with his wife."

"No, her tutoring sessions began fifteen minutes ago," Scott said, "He should be available."

Logan cocked his head. Ororo remembered that he hadn't met Moira on his last visit.

"And his office is...?" he asked.

"You forgot already?" Scott said.

"Why so concerned one-eye?" Logan asked, "Do you want me around more?"

"Enough," Jean said.

She looked over at Scott.

"We still have to get the Blackbird ready," she said.

"You two take care of it," Ororo said, "I'll take Logan up."

She got up from the table and gestured to the door. Logan nodded and turned. She wondered if she should tell him to put his cigar out, but decided against it. She doubted it would matter. With a final nod to Scott and Jean she guided Logan out into the hall.

"You guys havin some sort of war meetin or somethin?" he asked.

"Long story," Ororo said.

"You don't say," Logan said.

He blew out some smoke from his cigar. He pointed back down the hall with his thumb.

"By the way, didn see Rogue out there," he said.

Inwardly Ororo nodded to herself. They could count on him to defend the Institute for Rogue. He might do it for Jean too, but she wanted to make sure that he didn't get any ideas about that. She'd already seen where that sort of thing ended.

"She's in class," Ororo said, "It started two minutes ago."

Logan made a face, and Ororo wondered how much it rankled him that he had just missed her. She wondered if he was planning on staying long. She didn't think so.

"I think that she's taking French right now," Ororo said.

"How's she doin?" Logan asked.

"Better. Apparently someone's tutoring her," Ororo said.

"No, I mean in general," Logan said.

Ororo sighed.

"About as well as we can expect. She's in a new environment, and she's just been through some bad experiences," she said, "Maybe she's even doing a little better than expected. She has friends, and...she's not alone with having a mutation that she can't control. She's getting support."

He glanced over at her.

"And who's supporting her?" Logan said.

"Max," Ororo said.

Logan raised his eyebrows.

"Who is?" he asked.

She almost laughed at the protective tone in his voice.

"A friend. His mutation is similar to hers and he had an...incident as well," Ororo said, "He's very strong though. His parents are both mutants, and he's receiving a lot of support from them, but they can't be here all the time. He told me the other day that Rogue is like family now."

Logan grunted. She supposed that he approved of that. Ororo decided not to discuss the interest that both Bobby and Remy were showing in Rogue, although Remy did have a habit of flirting outrageously. She hadn't seen him pursue anyone with so little encouragement for as long as he had pursued Rogue though.

"This kid's parents are mutants?" Logan asked.

"Yes," Ororo said.

She smiled to herself.

"Actually, his parents are Alex and Lorna Summers," she said.

Logan made a face.

"Related to one-eye?" he asked.

"Alex is his brother," Ororo said, "Max is his nephew."

Logan groaned.

"What is it with the Summers?" he asked.

"Well," Ororo said, "Alex and Scott are brothers, and Alex led the X-men before Scott. He trained us all really, and then Lorna became a member and they got married."

She decided not to mention Lorna's membership in the Brotherhood or her parentage. Logan might be a recurring visitor, and she had the feeling that the Professor might be right about him showing up often, but he wasn't one of them.

"And then they retired and had two children," Ororo said, "Max is one, and he has a sister named Luna. It's quite the dynasty."

"You can say that again," Logan said.

There was a pause. Ororo looked around the hall, making sure that there was no one there to hear what she was about to say.

"And of course, Scott and Jean have practically been engaged for the past couple of years," she said, "So they're probably going to be adding to that soon."

She saw Logan tense immediately.

"You have somethin to say?" he asked.

Ororo gave him a frank look.

"I'm not an idiot, and I don't think that you are either," she said, "So I'm trying to give you a friendly word of warning."

She paused for a moment and composed her words.

"Scott and Jean have been together since they were teenagers," she said, "And, I know that they don't look it, but they're very much in love. It's not as obvious as I think it might be with most people-"

"Then my presence won't do anythin, an you're just bein nosy," Logan snapped.

Ororo winced.

"Oh, trust me," she said, "It does something."

She thought back to Warren and Jean. It hurt to think about Warren, but some part of her had softly muted her grief. It would come back when they figured out why he'd been murdered, she knew it would, but for now it was quiet.

Ororo hadn't blamed Jean for what had happened between her, Scott, and Warren. Even at the time Ororo had recognized it for what it was: a mixture of bad timing and terrible misunderstandings. It had been a bad situation and Jean wasn't equipped for dealing with it. She was too young, too shy, and far too naïve.

She'd still had some anger over the situation on Warren's behalf: of course she had. Unlike Warren she hadn't directed her anger at any one person though. She hadn't seen what the point was, or if there was anything to actually be angry about.

Now it was happening all over again. She just hoped that, this time around, Jean wouldn't be uncertain about telling the runner-up off. She still remembered Warren telling her about it, the humiliation raw in his voice.

"And it doesn't end well," Ororo said.

Logan inhaled deeply.

"We near Chuck's office?" he asked.

Ororo pointed.

"Thanks," he said.

Ororo watched him go and sighed. At least she had warned him. There were other, more important things that she had to look to now.

* * *

Sean looked at the schematics the lab had taken of what was left of Magneto's machine. He was glad that Coulson had overseen the clean-up crew. Sean didn't know if he trusted anyone else around a machine that powerful.

Even with SHIELD's reconstructive skills most of the machine was still missing. Whoever this Logan was, he'd really done a number on the machine. Sean couldn't help but be impressed.

There were worrying aspects to the machine though. It was highly advanced tech, and the last time Sean had checked the Brotherhood didn't have any tech people. Mystique, Emma, and Magneto knew enough about technology to make the X-men's lives difficult, but not like this.

"Anything?" Coulson said.

Sean glanced over at him. He enjoyed working with his friend's son, even if he thought he was too much of a Captain America fan. He really needed to stop talking about those cards sometime.

He also had the habit of speaking in a dry, almost clipped tone when time was running out. It didn't help the situation much.

"Not from the schematics," Sean said.

He cracked his neck. His flight had been long and he hadn't gotten a chance for much shut-eye. As he rotated his neck back to its original position he saw the schematics at a different angle.

Sean froze and stared. Coulson walked next to him and frowned.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

Sean picked up the different schematics and began rearranging them. Inside his head he chanted that this couldn't be true, that he couldn't be reliving this situation over again. At the same time he heard a small voice saying that, unfortunately, he was.

"Is something wrong?" Coulson repeated.

"Yeah," Sean said, "We need to get back to base. Now."

"Why?" Coulson said.

Sean grabbed his coat and glanced at the schematics, at the vagaries of the familiar design.

"I want to make sure that Sinister's secure," he said.


	15. Chapter 15

August 15, 1992

Terry looked at the screen in front of her, feeling bored. Prison duty wasn't particularly exciting. She could appreciate downtime, anyone could, but she had been raised to be active, not to just sit in a chair and do a desk job.

She felt someone wrap their hand around her hair and give it a sharp yank. Terry was jerked backwards. She immediately lashed out backwards with her arm as hard as she could.

"Oh, hey, ouch! Ouch! I surrender, I surrender!"

The hand let go of her hair and Terry turned in her swivel chair.

"My hair is not a toy Wade," she said.

Wade grinned at her: she could see the fabric bunch up strangely at the corners of his mouth. He shrugged and leaned against the wall.

"Can't help it," he said, "You're like one of those cabbage patch kids. Red cabbage."

"Don't be an asshole," she said.

"I'm the best asshole there is," he said.

She rolled her eyes, but it was an old exchange between the two of them. He peered over her shoulder at the different screens.

"So, how's all of our little inmates here?" he asked, "Any of em makin shivs yet beautiful?"

"No," Terry said, "Just boring stuff."

He leaned on the control board.

"You could always go with my suggestion," he said.

She closed her eyes.

"We are not staging gladiatorial fights among prisoners," Terry said.

"I never said that!"

"Right," Terry said, "You said they should be dressed as different cartoon characters while they did it."

He giggled then, that strange, insane giggle that scared most of the SHIELD operatives. Terry'd always had a stronger stomach, so the most it had done was unnerve her while her father rolled his eyes.

While she still wasn't completely comfortable with it, it was just a part of who he was.

"Come on," he said, "Don't tell me you never wondered about who'd win in a fight: Daffy Duck or Porky Pig?"

"No," she said.

"I mean, you'd think it'd be the duck, right, but he's super stupid!" Wade said, "I think that if they were in a life or death situation-"

Despite herself Terry found herself laughing.

"Just stop talking," she said.

"Not gonna happen beautiful," he said.

He looked around and leaned a little further.

"Of course," he said, "Now that your dad isn't here to give me evil laser beam looks, when's your shift end?"

She looked up at him, pushing some of her hair out of her face.

"Three hours," she said.

"Hmm," he said, tapping his chin.

Terry leaned back further and watched him as he cocked his head, almost like he was in deep thought.

"I'm thinkin dinner," he said, "There's a great place, well, it's okay, well, maybe not, but it lets you go in costume with your weapons."

He made a face.

"Taco Bell doesn't anymore," he said, "Dicks."

Terry hesitated and put a hand on his arm.

"You don't have to go in costume you know," she said.

He looked down at her.

"Either that or the cashier faints," Wade said.

His tone was light, but Terry knew him well enough to hear the edge there. She remembered her own reaction when she had first seen him without his mask on. Terry had grown up around mutants, remembered seeing Hank for the first time, and all of the other people with strange mutations who came in and out of Westchester.

It just made the gasp that she couldn't stop seem all the worse, to see the injuries that could never heal, the scarring that was still seared into her mind. She remembered the sneer in his voice when he turned away from her, and the invisible shove that made her decide that that gasp would not be the final word on the matter.

His voice still drifted through her thoughts as she touched his face, her own acidic voice letting him know that nothing had changed, to stop being such a baby and trying to push her away. His muttered words about how kind she was had somehow sealed the situation for them.

Just like she did then Terry reached out and touched Wade's masked face. If she concentrated she could just feel the scarred welts beneath the fabric. She smiled faintly and pulled up the edge of the fabric.

Before he could do anything she flipped it up to his nose and kissed him on his mottled, scarred lips. When she released she could see that he was already pulling the mask back down again. His eyes were quirked in a way that said just about everything about them.

"Well, we could always have something delivered," she said, "My place?"

His mask bunched up at the corners again.

"Pizza?" he asked.

"Pizza," she said, "But no applesauce, okay?"

"Aww..." he said.

Terry flipped her hair.

"You can add the applesauce later," she said.

"Have I told you you're amazing beautiful?" Wade asked.

She smiled then, trying to ignore the pain she felt in her heart. It was probably the closest that Wade would ever come to saying that he loved her, even when she'd told him how she'd felt. She'd come to terms with the fact that he was never going to say a long time ago, and all that was left was to move past that one twinge of pain.

"Not lately," Terry said.

He began to say something, Terry wasn't sure what it was, but the monitors began to flash and a siren went off. Terry swirled around in her seat and began clicking through different camera angles, Wade coming up and standing next to her.

She finally found a view that showed a heavily built blond man and a woman covered with fur running down a hall.

"Prison break?" Wade asked, his tone giddy.

Terry keyed in the command for a lockdown and sent out the automatic alarm.

"Those aren't prisoners," she said, "I think they're busting someone out."

"So, prison break?" Wade asked.

"They're breaking someone out, that much is certain," she said.

Wade whooped as Terry got up. She grabbed the SHIELD standard issue guns, not that she had used them often. She had been taught to rely on her limbs and voice to fight her battles for her, not a machine. Still, she liked the reassurance.

She tapped the screen again, getting a better view of the hall.

"This makes no sense," she said, "No one's in that sector right now...except..."

Her voice died off. She pushed away from the computer monitor and began to hurry down the stairs. Wade began loping after her, catching up with her after a few seconds.

"Didn't finish your sentence beautiful," he said, "Is that what they call a hanging verb or-?"

"Wade, Sinister's down there," Terry said.

She keyed the code to the doors and ran as fast as she could. Wade kept pace with her, his brow furrowing behind his mask before his eyes lit up.

"Oh yeah, that's that guy you fought in the second story, right?" he asked.

"Wade, we really don't have time to listen to all the weird stuff you reference right now," Terry said, "It's deep shit if he gets out, okay?"

"Okay, okay," Wade said.

She keyed the final code and stood at the hallway and put a finger to her lips. Wade took out his katanas and the two of them moved as quietly as they could down the hallway. Terry took as many deep breaths as she could, trying to get her lungs to stop burning. She'd need to be in good voice for later.

Terry peeked around the corner. The furred woman and the blonde man were standing in front of Sinister's cell. She put a hand out to stop Wade and the two of them watched as the blonde man began pounding numbers into the key pad.

"Hurry up," the furred woman said.

Terry looked at Wade. She knew that, somewhere, reinforcements were coming. She also knew that they didn't have time to wait for them. There was very little that waiting could get her, and there were two of them now.

She jerked her head towards them. Without a word Wade moved around her, putting one of his katanas away and taking out one of his guns. By the time the blonde man looked up Wade had already gotten a shot into his arm.

"Trick or treat!" Wade roared.

Terry smiled and turned around the corner. Wade didn't bother to cover his ears, and Terry didn't bother to warn him. They had worked together for far too long to need something so arbitrary as that. His healing factor would take care of the damage she was about to do.

She screamed as loudly as she could, the sound causing the room to shake. The furred woman howled and clamped her hands over her ears. She saw blood trickle out of one of the blonde man's ears.

Terry took another breath and the furred woman launched herself at her. The first swipe of her claws caught Terry's arm, but Terry twirled around and kicked her backwards. She followed it up with a swift kick to her head, but the woman dragged her to the ground.

She rolled onto her back and the furred woman leaned over, her claws extended. Terry sucked in air and screamed in her face. The woman faltered and Terry got up and smashed her head into the wall. When she was finished she saw Wade whistle over her head, hitting the wall.

Wade got back to his feet, bouncing from one foot to another.

"Here kitty kitty kitty!" he crooned.

The man snarled and raced for him, claws outstretched. Terry rolled out of the way as Wade buried his katana into the man's arm. He tried to hit him, but Wade flipped over his shoulder and shoved him away. Terry got to her feet and looked at the control panel that he had been tampering with.

She saw a countdown on it and recognized it as he countdown to the door's release. Her heart thudded painfully and she ran up to it. Her fingers began flying over the keys, trying to counteract the ominous ticking.

Wade moved beside her, his swords drawn.

"What's wrong beautiful?" he asked.

"The door's going to open in a minute unless I can stop it," she said.

"Well, that's not good," he said.

"Thank you Captain Obvious," Terry said.

She looked around her as the blonde man began running towards them, his face still in a snarl. Terry looked away from him. The keypad codes for the prisoners were unfamiliar and she was in a race against the clock. She couldn't afford to get distracted.

"Watch my back," she said.

"Always," Wade said.

There was a touch of tenderness in his voice, and Terry knew she would have to take back her earlier estimation on how he would say he loved her. She shook it out of her mind as she began moving her fingers furiously across the keypad.

Behind her she could hear the continued battle. Sweat beaded on her forehead. She had thirty seconds left now.

"You won't get it, you know."

She didn't look up, didn't let Sinister's voice rattle her. She couldn't.

"You're Cassidy's child, aren't you? It appears that you did take after your father."

She pressed another few buttons and saw the countdown slow down. She was so close, fifteen seconds away from the door opening.

"Shame. I would have liked to investigate that."

A hand wrapped itself around Terry's throat and she felt claws dig in. Terry had enough time to see the furred woman before she was tossed to the side. A ripping noise filled the air and Terry fell to the ground.

She looked at the tiles beneath her, at the gathering red. Her hair wasn't that long, was it? Instead she saw that the different drops were pooling together. Her hand went up to her throat and came out red.

Terry tried to take a breath and couldn't. She tasted the blood filling her throat and coughed as the door to Sinister's cell opened. He looked at her with a strange condescension as the furred woman took out some smoke grenades. Terry made an abortive movement towards them when the woman dropped them. Soon Terry couldn't see anything.

When the smoke cleared Terry couldn't taste anything other than blood. She fell to the floor, twitching slightly, trying desperately to clear her throat.

"What the hell just happened?"

Wade moved through the smoke, batting it away from his face. She could see his eyes widen as he knelt by her, his words coming in short bursts that she couldn't quite hear.

"Terry, keep holding your damn throat, okay? I'm gonna get some help but...don't...goddamn it don't..."

She felt him pick her up, but she couldn't breath, couldn't even focus on his face.

"Please don't...don't do this to me, okay? So don't-"

A blanket of darkness closed in around, her lungs starved of oxygen

"Terry? Terry!"

Her eyes closed and the world faded away.


	16. Chapter 16

August 16, 1992

It was two in the morning. Alex stumbled through the hall, trying to stay awake. He hadn't managed to get a wink of sleep on the way over. He'd received the call from Sean when he was about to take his last connecting flight to Westchester, to his son and wife.

The call had lasted about two minutes before Sean had hung up. Alex hadn't hesitated after hearing it: he'd changed his ticket to Providence. Apparently SHIELD had a base there. While waiting he'd called Lorna and told her what had happened, why he would be late. With Sinister on the loose they would need everyone on high alert. Westchester also had to know what had happened to one of their own.

He'd received clearance to come inside the base: he'd told Sean that he would be coming after all. A few agents gave him a strange look, wondering what a civilian was doing there no doubt, but he kept walking. They didn't matter.

An infuriating sense of deja vu came over him. He'd done this before, walked a hospital hallway with feelings of horror, grief, and determination coursing through him. He remembered the broken look on Hank's face. The situation had turned out alright in the end, but Carly had ended up losing five years of her life. They hadn't even known that the ramifications would be that far reaching at the time. This time they knew for a fact that something horrible was going to happen.

Alex finally found the right door. He felt old as he watched in and saw Sean seated at the edge of his chair, his hands clenching the rails of his daughter's hospital bed. Alex could see that his friend's knuckles had turned white.

He sat down and looked at Terry. He remembered when she had been a shy little girl who had clung to her father after years of abuse. Alex had seen her grow up, remembered when she had been under his command as an X-man. Terry had come such a long way, and she had fought for every inch.

Seeing her so pale, her bright red hair looking more like a pool of blood beneath her head than hair, was disturbing. He saw the row of stitches on her throat, the heavy bandages that had been wrapped around it. Alex swallowed and looked at Sean.

"Sean?" he asked.

"They're keeping her in an induced coma right now," Sean said, "They can't risk her damaging her stitches. Not right now."

His voice was low, cracking. Alex remembered the way he had spoken when he'd found out Maeve had died, when he'd thought that Terry had died before she'd gotten a chance to live. He swallowed.

"But she's going to be alright?" Alex said.

Sean paused.

"The SHIELD doctors managed to save her life," he said, "She'll be...she'll be alive."

Alex furrowed his brow.

"What aren't you telling me?" he asked.

Sean took a deep breath, sobs shaking his frame.

"They say...they say her vocal chords were ripped out...Alex, they say she won't be able to talk again," he said.

Alex felt the world slow. He looked over at Terry, the girl who had always talked back and stood firm in her beliefs. He remembered her tossing her hair and telling the world that, after so many years of abuse, she wasn't going to let anyone put her down anymore. Lorna had told Alex that she always felt that Terry could be great, if only she could find her voice. She had, and she had been amazing.

Terry was, of course, much more than her voice. However, Alex couldn't help but feel his friend's anguish. Terry had been so outspoken and strong, her voice lending her the strength to stand up to Black Tom in her first battle. He put his hand out on his friend's shoulder.

"Hey, hey, it's gonna be alright," Alex said.

Sean shook his hand off.

"What would you know about it?" Sean said.

Alex felt taken a back. He suddenly remembered how angry Sean had been the last time grief had consumed him. He tried to backtrack, but Sean was already racing down an unsteady path.

"You're always the lucky one, aren't you?" he said, "Your wife, your children, they're all fine! You got married, settled down...you got everything Alex, and everyone you love always gets to live happily ever after."

Alex looked down.

"Not everyone," he said.

Sean looked at him, his eyes reflecting his fury and anguish.

"If you don't get to 'live happily ever after,' then everyone I care about doesn't get to," Alex said.

Sean deflated, hanging his head.

"I'm sorry...I-"

"No, it's okay," Alex said, "Get it all out now if you have to."

"I don't," Sean said, "I don't..."

He took another shuddering breath.

"Terry needs me to be strong but...Alex I don't want to have to tell her she'll probably never speak again," he said.

Alex put his hand out and gripped Sean's shoulder. This time Sean didn't shake it away.

"There's no one else who can tell her," Alex said, "It's part of what being a father is about."

"I know..." Sean said.

Sean straightened slightly and looked out the window.

"We need to work on finding Sinister," he said.

"I've got Westchester on it," Alex said, "And I'll get on it personally. I might not be an X-man anymore, but you don't just waltz out and try to take down Sinister without all of your firepower."

"No, you don't," Sean said.

His fingers tightened on the bed rails of Terry's bed. Alex was worried that he was going to break it.

"That machine that Magneto used at New York," Sean said, "Sinister designed it."

Alex's eyes widened.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"I recognized his signature," Sean said, "And one of the people breaking Sinister out was Sabretooth."

Alex gritted his teeth.

"Then it looks like we'll be having a little chat with Magneto," he said, "Ask him about where he gets his tech from."

"Just like old times," Sean said.

His voice was absent and distant.

"Sean, you don't have to come with us," Alex said.

"I wasn't volunteering to," Sean said.

He looked down at Terry. One of his hands let go of the bed rail. He brushed a few strands of hair away from her face.

"Not until she wakes up," he said, "And even then..."

Alex nodded in approval. Sean was still shuddering, and Alex wondered how long he had been waiting for news of his daughter.

"Have you eaten?" Alex asked.

Sean shook his head.

"Coulson had to go and make sure none of the other prisoners had escaped and...I couldn't leave her," Sean said.

"I understand," Alex said.

He got to his feet.

"I'll get you something at the cafeteria," he said, "Just stay here, okay?"

"You don't have to tell me twice," Sean said.

Alex put his hands in his pockets and walked down the hall. He followed the signs and was a floor away from the cafeteria when someone put a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, how is she?"

Alex turned around. There were few people who could sneak up on him and, even though he was distracted and thus an easy target, Alex was impressed. He was a little less happy with the sight that greeted him.

He'd never actually met Deadpool, although Sean had talked about him often. They were the only people that they could really complain about their children to, and Sean had been very unhappy that Terry was dating him. He'd taken their advice about how to deal with the problem, but he had still talked about it with irritation to them.

He'd shown them a picture of the two of them once, and Alex had wondered just why Deadpool had insisted on wearing his uniform in a casual pictue.

"Shouldn't you already know that?" Alex asked.

He knew his voice was coming off as clipped and cold, but he couldn't help it. Deadpool shifted and took his hand off of Alex's shoulder.

"I...I don't. Just...her father wouldn't be happy to see me," he said.

Something clicked and Alex had to hold back a snarl.

"Were you with her when this happened?" he asked.

Deadpool didn't answer, but the look of shame was enough for Alex.

"Right," Alex said.

He clenched his hands into fists.

"She's going to live," he said, "But the doctors think that she'll never speak again."

Deadpool went rigid. He pulled away his hand, looking lost and confused.

"What?" he whispered, "But...she-"

"She's lucky to be alive," Alex said.

Deadpool gave him a desperate look. Even beneath the mask Alex could feel the anguish. Despite himself, he felt a brief stab of pity for the man. Alex ran a hand through his hair. His years as a father had made him soft. Years ago he would have already punched him.

"Look, the important thing is that she's alive. That's what we all need to be thankful for," Alex said, "And when she comes to, you can apologize to her all you want-"

"No."

Alex frowned.

"Say that again?" he asked.

"I'm leaving," Deadpool said.

Alex closed his eyes for a moment.

"Don't be such a coward," Alex said, "After her father sees her and she's-"

"Look, I don't know who you are," Deadpool said, "But you look ex-military, maybe mercenary, damned if I know. Terry's dad runs with some weirdos. But there are things that you can come back from, and things that you can't. You look like the type that knows that."

Deadpool shook his head.

"And I can't come back from this," he said.

He turned around.

"And here I was thinking you might've given a damn about her," Alex said.

Deadpool paused for a second.

"I shouldn't have," he said, "Woulda made this easier."

"Don't be such an asshole!" Alex said.

Alex felt the red light pulsing in his veins, and he struggled to keep it under control. Deadpool chuckled at some sort of joke, but the sound was dark and mirthless.

"I'm the best asshole there is," he said.

He took off down the corridor. Alex looked after him for a minute before walking towards the cafeteria. He thought of Terry, the girl he'd trained, the woman who had depended on a teammate and the man she loved to have her back. It looked like she wouldn't have the opportunity to make that mistake again.

* * *

Terry woke up, feeling groggy. She put a hand on her head and her father looked up at her. His eyes lit up and he took her hand.

"Hey Terry," he said.

She managed a smile, and then remembered Sinister coming out of his cell. She opened her mouth to tell him, to say that they had to form a response team at once, but nothing came out. Terry tried again and she saw her father's eyes widen. She frowned and put a hand to her throat.

Thick bandages met her hand. She felt a trickle of panic enter her, and she looked at he father.

"Terry, honey...that woman ripped out your vocal chords...the doctors...they don't think..." he said.

Her father swallowed and tightened his grip on her hand.

"The doctors think it's unlikely you'll speak again," he said.

Terry stared at him, unable to process the information. She swallowed the motion, feeling as though someone had poured fire down her throat. Tears trickled down her cheeks and she broke out into silent sobbing.

Her father moved and gathered her up in her arms.

"It's gonna be okay honey," he said, "It's gonna be okay."

Terry continued to cry, a scream of anguish dying before it had the chance to pass her lips.


	17. Chapter 17

August 16, 1992

Lorna took a deep breath and tried to keep from crying. Her eyes were watering, even though she was fighting it. Alex had just given her the news about Terry over the phone. It didn't seem real that she would probably never speak again. She tried to tell herself that things could have been worse, but all she could think about was the vibrant woman that Terry was being abruptly silenced.

Her heart burned. Sinister was loose and his minions had injured Terry permanently. Although it sounded absent-minded, Lorna had forgotten about Sinister. So much had happened in her life after they had fought him, and he had been filed away. They had contained him.

Now he was back, like a recurring nightmare. He had hurt Carly and Sharon, and now he had hurt Terry too. Lorna wished she could see her friend, but she knew she would have to wait. SHIELD was very secretive.

She hoped that they would let up soon. Terry needed people around her, especially after what Alex had told her about Terry's boyfriend. She had never met Deadpool, or Wade as Terry called him, but Terry'd had faith in him. She'd told Lorna that she loved him, that she knew that he was a good man despite everything.

Terry had always stood up for him. Lorna couldn't believe that he would just leave her after everything. She was tempted to find him and drag him to Terry, if for nothing else than to have him explain himself.

"Mom?"

Lorna quickly wiped her eyes and turned around. Max was standing in the doorway. She forced herself to smile. He didn't know any of it yet. As far as he knew Terry was still working her old job, dating her psychotic boyfriend, and living fairly happily. Lorna envied him that.

She would have to tell him eventually. She would have to tell them all what Alex had told her. Charles and Moira already knew about Terry's initial injury, but they didn't know about this new news.

"Hey, didn't hear you there," she said.

"Are you okay?" Max asked.

She clenched her teeth and continued to smile. Lorna would have to tell him later about Terry. She couldn't do it now. Charles and Moira should know first, and they would figure out how to spread the word.

"I'm fine," she said, "You just surprised me. I thought that you'd be in class right now."

"We got out early," Max said.

He shifted his feet.

"I uh, I actually wanted to talk to you about something," he said.

Lorna tucked her hair behind her ear.

"What about?" she asked.

"Well...maybe you should sit down," Max said.

Lorna raised her eyebrows, but did as her son suggested. He sat across from her and fidgeted.

"I'm fifteen," he said.

"Trust me, I know," Lorna said.

Max smiled, but she could see his nerves bleeding into the expression. Lorna looked at her son critically. She had no idea what it was that he was going to ask her. Perhaps it was about girls. It wouldn't be Rogue: he'd continuously told Lorna that she was family to him.

Lorna had tried to treat the girl accordingly. She'd invited her out to dinner a few nights ago. Rogue had declined and Lorna had realized that Rogue was hesitant to leave the Institute. Lorna had instead ordered Chinese food and had it delivered. Rogue had looked gratefully at her. Logan had been invited too, the invitation extended through Rogue, but he'd declined.

She would have to figure out a way to include him. Rogue considered him family, and Max had taken Rogue into the fold. Lorna wished she'd had a little more warning about that, but she thought it was a good decision. Lorna had been an outsider once, looking at the X-men and wanting family.

Alex had become her family though. He'd proposed to her five months after she had become a permanent member of the Institute. Two months later she'd married him and officially changed her name, become part of a family who wanted her.

Max fidgeted and Lorna waited. It wasn't like her son to be so cagey with his words.

"Max?" she asked, "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

Max smiled a bit.

"I want to be an X-man," he said.

Lorna's eyes widened. Her heart rate increased and her mind began sparking in alarm. She tried not to let any of it show on her face.

"I know it's a lot of responsibility, but dad and you have taught me how to fight, so I have a strong basis," Max said, "My powers are a little unpredictable, but if I wear gloves then it's no more unpredictable than Uncle Scott's, and you've proved that it has a good combat application."

Max's grandfather had proved that it had a good combat application as well. Lorna could feel the pain starting up again and she struggled to stay seated.

"I need your permission, you and dad's," Max said, "I know Uncle Scott won't endorse me to the Professor unless you give me the go ahead and...well...I want you guys behind me on this."

His tone seemed to become more confident as he spoke. Lorna realized that he expected her approbation. It was almost as though, the more he thought about it, the more he decided that there was no reason to be nervous about his request. It wasn't as though he thought there would be any objections to what he was doing.

She wished there weren't.

"Max...I appreciate that you've thought about this before talking to me," Lorna said.

Max practically glowed.

"But I'm concerned that you haven't thought about this as much as you should," she said.

Her son blinked before his mouth set into a frown.

"Mom, I've been thinking about this for ages," he said.

"I know," Lorna said, "But there's a lot that you haven't thought of."

Her son's face darkened a little, and she could see the irritation there. Lorna paused, wanting him to understand. He couldn't go into this blindly. She looked around the room that she had shared with Alex when they lived there, a room that still held many of their things.

She sighed and got up. Lorna opened the wardrobe and dug around for a few minutes. She knew that her son was staring at her, still with that misunderstanding irritation in his eyes. He wanted to be like his parents, didn't understand why she wasn't excited for him.

Lorna pulled a small cloth bundle out from the wardrobe. She walked back to her seat and sat down, holding the bundle in her lap.

"Max, when I was eleven years old, I wanted to be like the people who had saved my life," Lorna said, "I thought that there was no other way to protect other mutants from losing people they love."

It was the only way that she could say it without explaining everything. Max had an idea that his grandmother had been killed by a mob while trying to protect Lorna. He didn't know that Lorna's father was Magneto. Lorna knew that, if it came to it, she would tell Max about his grandfather. They would have to tell him eventually. If he was going to be an X-man though, he needed to know.

She had to know if he was ready for that though. He was still so young, still saw the world in simple shades. Max had more insight than many others his age because of what Lorna had been, but it still might not have been enough.

"I know that mom-" Max began.

"Let me finish," Lorna said.

Max fell silent. Lorna unfolded the bundle of cloth. Inside were six knives. Azazel had given them to her to train and fight with when she was twelve. All of them were in perfect condition, sharp and ready for battle.

Lorna had gotten rid of all the trappings of her life as a member of the Brotherhood. There were things that she couldn't erase, her blood being one of them. Lorna had no wish to deny who she was, who her father was, a man she still hoped would come around. When she'd heard that he'd broken out of prison she'd felt her own brand of grief: it was just another opportunity missed between them.

The knives were another thing that she couldn't get rid of. Azazel had been an assassin, and a torturer, but he was also part of her past. He had helped raise her and had died when she still had so many questions. She couldn't bring herself to get rid of the knives with all of their different meanings.

She picked up a knife and unsheathed it. Lorna levitated it in the air over her fingers.

"I fought with these for several years," she said, "I was trained to use them by one of the Brotherhood's premier assassins as soon as I'd been taught some basic hand-to-hand combat."

Max stared at the knife. Lorna made it flip over and she grabbed it by the hilt. She still remembered how it felt to use them, how solid they felt in her hands.

"I know you know these aren't toys," she said, "But they aren't tools either. They're not meant to help or protect. They're meant to kill Max, and that's all they're for."

She let go of the knife and let it levitate in the air. Max watched, mesmerized. She sheathed it and then handed it, hilt first, to Max.

"Pick it up," Lorna said.

Max swallowed before grasping the knife. She could see that it was awkward for him. He hadn't been trained with them.

"I was taught that it didn't matter what the body count was as long as I kept myself and my teammates safe," she said, "They were just humans, just collateral, and they didn't matter."

She looked down at the knives in her lap. They brought back so many memories. If she concentrated she could still remember how they felt slotted into the holsters in her Kevlar vest.

"But then I learned that collateral was another word for lives that people don't care enough to save," Lorna said, "Your grandmother was collateral for someone Max, and I didn't see that until I was older."

She reached out and touched his gloved hand. Max looked up at her. She could see understanding start to dawn in his eyes, even if it was coming slowly. Lorna was glad. He had always been a smart boy.

"The X-men know that, and they take their responsibilities seriously," Lorna said, "But you are fighters, and in combat things happen."

She took a deep breath.

"If you become an X-man Max, you will have to kill someone at some point," she said, "You will have to take a life, but before you do that you will have to judge whether or not it's worth it. It's a burden that the Brotherhood never dealt with: they never have to because they believe in collateral. But it's different for the X-men."

Her son's eyes widened and Lorna moved her hand to his shoulder.

"Whatever you decide your father and I will always be proud of you," she said, "Think very, very hard before you talk to me again. And if you don't want to be an X-man, then there is nothing wrong with the path of peace. But if you still want to be an X-man..."

She swallowed, thinking of her father, of Max's grandfather.

"...then there's another conversation that we have to have," Lorna said, "But I want you to keep that knife with you while you make that decision. Just so you know what the difference is."

Max nodded slowly, turning the sheathed knife over and over in his hand.


	18. Chapter 18

August 16, 1992

The streets of Boston were crowded with partygoers. Jean kept her head down. She was wearing her favorite jacket over her uniform: they were all wearing jackets. It was the only real way to cover up the fact that they were wearing protective uniforms beneath them. Scott preferred a brown trench coat and Ororo a thigh-length black coat, but the concept was the same.

Ororo began pushing through the crowds, her steps determined. Jean was worried about her and looked at Scott. He nodded at her, and she knew that he had understood. They rarely needed words to communicate what they were thinking or feeling. They would have to do something to contain her before they ran into their enemies.

More people poured out into the street, almost crushing them. Jean had heard that the circus was in town, quite literally. The Munich Circus was world famous and, if she wasn't on business, she probably would try to get Scott to take her.

As it was that wasn't an option. Jean wished that there was time to breathe, to do something other than have to investigate and report. She wanted to go back to the Institute and just teach her classes, write her papers, and take the students' temperatures.

Not for the first time she wondered if she was cut out for the X-men's lifestyle. She thought of Calvin and Clarice, happily married and living in Florida. They were doing good work, but they weren't X-men anymore. Their marriage was, as of yet, childless. The last she'd heard on the matter Clarice and Calvin were discussing adoption.

They seemed happy though. They didn't live day to day in combat like the X-men did. Calvin and Clarice still had plenty of the same worries as they did, she had no doubt about that, but they didn't respond to things in the same way. They didn't have to.

Jean wished that Scott and her could do that same thing: get married and move to some pleasant city. She loved the Institute, but Jean had lived there in some form or another for around twenty years. Perhaps it was time to move on.

It wasn't as though that were a real option though. Scott was tied to the X-men, both by blood and desire. He'd wanted nothing more than to lead the X-men like his brother did since he was fifteen. He saw it as continuing his brother's legacy It was his most fervent desire to stay there until they had completed their phase in the journey.

It would be a while until they completed that phase. They hadn't trained another generation to take their places yet. Remy was the closest they had to someone who would take their place, and there was only one of him. The X-men membership had never dropped beneath three, mostly because it was a bad idea.

In other words, it all meant that she was going to be another X-man for at least another five years. That was how long it took to train someone to a competent level where they could fight unsupervised. It was an uncomfortable thought, but what else could she do? She couldn't leave Scott behind, and she couldn't just drop the X-men. Not when they needed her.

So she knew that she was going to be staying at the Institute for the time being. It wasn't horrible: she had friends there, the man she loved and expected to marry one day, and a good and rewarding job. It was a very nice set-up: the only thing that didn't fit was that she was occasionally required to take up arms. She was fine with staying there for the time being.

Logan was raising some difficult questions. Jean didn't like the way that he flirted with her, and she didn't like that she was attracted to him. She had the feeling that Scott knew that, and it was hurting him. Logan was the type of person that Scott hated the most in the world: someone with no ties, responsibilities, or respect. To know that Jean saw something in him, something that she didn't really understand herself, had most likely wounded him deeply.

Jean wished that she could just confess everything to Scott, tell him that it was just a fleeting attraction, that she still loved him. She didn't know how to explain without hurting him even worse though.

The last time she'd been in the situation she'd handled everything poorly, and that added trouble. Jean had hoped that, when she was older, it would make sense. Now that she was older she knew that it didn't.

"The more crowded the streets the easier it'll be to blend in," Scott said.

"That's good. We have to stay under the radar," Jean said.

Ororo looked over at the two of them.

"I understand that," she said.

Her voice was flat, but there was a slight edge to it. Jean winced at the tone. Ororo was more volatile than she would ever let anyone know. The entire team had always known that, and they'd known that she was even worse when she was protecting someone.

Teaching had softened her, but she still had some rough edges. Those edges were the ones that worried Jean. They were already on edge after what had happened to Terry. She had been one of their brightest students.

Having Sinister on the loose after two decades of peace was also frightening. Jean still remembered what he had done, what he had tried to do to Scott. His prison break, his connection to Magneto's attack on New York, and Warren's death were all too close together to be unrelated.

"We're starting at the crash site, and then we're moving outward," Scott said, "We need to keep a close investigation pattern."

Ororo nodded. Jean moved closer to Scott. For a moment she allowed herself to brush his fingers with hers. He looked over at her in surprise, before his face softened into a smile.

"Keep close," she said.

"Keep close," he agreed.

"Knock it off you two," Ororo said, looking over her shoulder at them.

Scott grinned and pulled away a bit. Jean smiled back as they continued through the crowd.

* * *

David and Kurt sat in silence for a few minutes. Kurt saw David staring at the ground, almost as though he were trying to work out some sort of puzzle. At least now Kurt knew that it wasn't because he was trying to avoid eye contact with his father.

His mother was looking out the window and his father sighed, his hands on his desk.

"Poor Terry," Kurt said at last.

"Poor a lot of things," David muttered.

He looked down at his hands.

"Her voice, her mutation, her weapon," David said, "I always thought she was really loud."

His words came off regretful. Kurt nodded. He had a hard time imagining Terry as being mute.

"There are dangers associated with our lives," his father said, "And I suppose that, unfortunately, Terry suffered because of it."

"There is a chance that she'll speak again," his mother said.

"It's slender," his father said.

"Hope springs eternal," his mother said, "And we both know that Terry will fight until she knows for certain."

Their father nodded and their mother put a hand on his shoulder.

"She's getting the best medical care right now," his mother said, "And once she's out we'll be able to visit her. Until then we're just going to have to sit tight, and hope and pray for the best."

David nodded, his expression thoughtful. He wasn't the only one: a million thoughts were racing through Kurt's head too. They knew that the X-men were investigating something somewhere, they hadn't been briefed on the details, and now Sinister was loose. None of it could be good.

His brother got up and Kurt followed. They both knew when they were being dismissed. Together they walked out into the hallway, neither of them speaking. After a moment David said:

"It makes you think."

"You might want to be more specific," Kurt said.

David shrugged.

"It's just...we choose the people that we trust," David said, "And Terry trusted her boyfriend to have her back."

Kurt shifted, feeling uncomfortable.

"We only know Uncle Alex's part of the story," he said.

"Nah, I wasn't even thinking about that," David said, "I mean, it sucks what he did and there should be some sort of law against that but..."

His brother ran a hand through his hair.

"The way I see it is that Terry's not an idiot," David said, "I don't think that she'd be so completely fooled by someone. If he was just a straight-up asshole then I don't think that she would've been with him. She's had enough assholes in her life that tried to cut and run to know one when she sees one."

Kurt nodded. Although it had been before his time, he'd heard about what happened to Terry when she was younger.

"So I think that he really does love her, that he's just confused and stupid," David said, "I think that he might come back."

"I hope he does," Kurt said, "She's probably in a lot of pain right now."

"Yeah," David said.

His brother looked at the ground. Kurt thought about what his brother had said.

"If you weren't talking about Terry's boyfriend, then what were you talking about though?" Kurt asked.

David sighed, sounding frustrated.

"It's just, well, we don't have as much time as we think we do," David said, "And I was just thinking that, with that in mind, deciding who to trust is actually a matter of more importance than we give it."

He crossed his arms.

"I mean, you trust Amanda, don't you?" David asked.

Kurt flushed. He immediately looked over his shoulder to see if his parents were within earshot.

"I don't know why you haven't told them," David said, "It's not that big of a deal. They'll be excited."

"I know that," Kurt said.

He shifted his feet.

"It's just...it's difficult," he said, "I really want them to like her."

"Hey, I liked her," David said.

Kurt grinned. He didn't want to tell David that he was the one that he'd been more nervous about introducing Amanda to. David had a habit of walling people off and, though Kurt had seen him tear down many of those walls recently, there was no changing the fact that those walls had been there. His brother's opinion meant everything to him, and he knew that if he walled off Amanda it would hurt terribly.

He'd wanted his brother to approve of Amanda so much that he had almost forgotten about his parents.

"All I'm saying is..." David trailed off.

He began walking again. Kurt hurried to catch up with him. He'd never seen his brother at such a loss for words.

"Okay, what I'm trying to say is that Terry made me think that things can happen that can take our planned futures away from us," David said, "And they can be stupid, random things. It's a lesson that I should've learned a long time ago, but I think that I took the wrong lessons away from a situation instead of this one."

Kurt blinked at his brother. David hadn't talked about his condition since New Orleans. He didn't even look too uncomfortable talking about it, just like he was at a loss as to what to say. Kurt remained silent, unsure of what was going to happen next.

"You know what, I'm all out of eloquence right now," David said, "Basically, life is short, shit happens, and I'm asking Sharon out to dinner tomorrow."

Kurt's eyes widened. He gaped as David quickened his pace and turned down another hallway. Kurt stared after his brother for a moment more, almost feeling his brother's impulsiveness in the air.

Suddenly a thought occurred to him. Kurt smiled slowly to himself. Maybe his brother wasn't the only one who could be impulsive.


	19. Chapter 19

August 16, 1992

Terry stared out the window. She was wearing the standard hospital issue pajamas. They were soft and thick. It was almost like they the hospital was wrapping her in bubble wrap, afraid that she'd hurt herself again somehow.

A few of her co-workers had been to see her. They had given her flowers and cards, even though they weren't the type to do that. The biggest bunch of flowers had arrived from Westchester. A few of her friends had worriedly asked about how she was doing. She had smiled and written them notes that she was going to learn sign language, pretending to be fine with her condition. They had nodded, pretending that her injury had only hampered her ability to communicate.

She touched her throat. She could feel the stiff stitches there in a criss-crossed pattern up her throat. Some of the SHIELD scientists were giving her an experimental drug to enhance her healing, but she didn't know how successful it would be.

Terry had put up a brave face for the doctors and the scientists. She'd smiled for Coulson and Fury, even managed to reassure Alex that she was fine. It was only when she was with her father that she allowed herself to break down and cry.

Her greatest weapon and asset had been ripped away from her. Her life was never going to be the same. The drug might heal the scars on her throat, but she didn't know if it would heal anything else. It was probable that her voice was gone forever.

Her father had comforted her, but there was someone else who should have been there. Terry had noticed that Wade was nowhere to be found almost immediately. She had asked after him, and seen the look that Sean had given Alex. She'd known then, and it had hurt like hell.

She closed her eyes against the tears. Terry had been warned, hadn't she? Everyone had told her that being with him was a terrible idea. She had gone and loved him anyways, because that wasn't something you could control. She had let him into her life and reassured him that she wasn't going to leave. It was ironic that after she'd told him he would never have to face the darkness alone he'd abandoned her to it.

Terry opened her eyes. She couldn't afford to think that way. She rolled her fingers over her throat for another minute, still staring out the window. Terry could feel the helplessness building up inside her, the feeling that the only option was to give up.

The last time she'd felt like this was when she'd been seven, watching Black Tom beat her father to death. She had screamed then, screamed to a world that had never listened. Then, somehow, it had heard her.

She took her hand off her throat. That option was no longer open to her. She could scream in her mind as loud as she wanted, but no one would ever hear.

"Terry?"

She looked over her shoulder. Her father had walked in, his expression surprised.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

Terry turned fully and looked her father in the eye. She wanted to tell him that she wasn't. Her throat burned with words she couldn't say and she could feel her life slipping away. The man she loved had abandoned her the one time she had needed him, too afraid to face his own mistake. Everything hurt.

She was more than her voice though. With it gone, she would have to be. So despite the overwhelming feeling of being adrift, despite the pain in her heart, she smiled.

* * *

Max walked through the hall, his gloved hands in his pockets. It was night now, but the conversation he'd had with his mother a few hours ago was still fresh in his mind. The knife she'd given him was sheathed and tucked in an inside pocket.

It would have been easier to leave it in his room and ignore what his mother had told him. However, he hadn't been raised that way. His parents had never been too strict, but they still managed to run a fairly tight ship. If his mother told him to think about something then he did it. There was always a reason.

He felt stupid for not thinking that he would have to kill people. It was something that he should have considered. The X-men were, more or less, soldiers. Soldiers killed people. The cause might be just, and they might be able to avoid excessive violence, but the killing was part of life.

One of his hands left his pocket and touched his coat. The weight of the knife seemed to become greater with every step. He'd watched old videos of his parents fighting together as X-men even though he wasn't technically allowed into the Danger Room. Scott had always made an exception for him.

He had never seen his mother fighting as a member of the Brotherhood. He'd known for years that she had been raised by them and, later, run away and become an X-men. It had shocked him at first, but over time he'd been able to recognize the bravery in that decision. She had chosen the better way and left everything behind for it.

Max hadn't known that she had fought with knives though. It made sense: they were weapons made completely of metal. They were deadly in anyone's hands, but for someone who controlled metal they were dangerous on a whole new level.

Feeling disconnected he walked into the library. He was unsurprised to see Rogue there: she tended not to go to bed until later. He hadn't expected to see Remy there, even though he knew that he was tutoring her on French.

Max wasn't sure how he felt about Remy's association with Rogue. She felt like a cousin, and Remy had a reputation. He didn't want to end up seeing Rogue get hurt, but he wasn't sure if it was his place to say anything, or if his advice would be welcome.

He took a step backward, not knowing if he should contineu. Rogue looked around and her face lit up.

"Max," she said, "Whatcha doin up so late?"

"Just thinking," he said.

She motioned for him to come over.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" he asked.

"Not really," Remy shrugged.

Max took a seat. He felt the knife shift beneath his coat, and he had to stop himself from wincing.

"So, how did it go?" Rogue asked.

"How'd what go?" Remy asked.

Max gave a wry smile. It wasn't as though it was a secret.

"I asked my mom for her permission to join the X-men," he said.

Remy let out a low whistle.

"We gonna have another Summers on da team den?" Remy asked.

Max gave him a long look, wondering if he'd killed anyone. He knew that he'd been a thief before he became an X-man, part of some sort of gang. He must have. Did he not know what Max was feeling, the question that his mother had posed to him? Or did he just not want to acknowledge it until Max did?

"She wanted me to really think about it," Max said, "She said she didn't want to see me rush into anything."

Rogue frowned and Remy raised his eyebrows.

"Remy woulda thought she woulda been more excited," he said.

"She knows exactly what Max would be getting into though."

Max looked over his shoulder. David stood in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe. Max bristled slightly: he didn't like anyone listening in on his conversations. At the same time, he could feel the weight of the knife in his pocket. It was like David had somehow known that he had it.

"I was wondering if you'd seen Kurt Remy," David said, "I asked...I asked Sharon if she wanted to get out for a bit tomorrow and she said Rahne would want to go, so I wanted to know if he wanted to come."

Remy shook his head.

"Any of you want to go too?" he asked.

David sounded a little defeated. Rogue nodded and Max nodded too, feeling a little disconnected. Remy merely tipped his head. David heaved a heavy sigh and began to move away from the door.

"What do you mean?" Max asked.

David stopped.

"What you said," Max said.

David shrugged.

"She knows just how dangerous it is, and she knows all of the worst outcomes. She knows what it can do to a person," David said, "Your mother also happens to know many of the current heavy hitters of the Brotherhood rather intimately. She knows just what they're capable of, and it's likely she might not want to see her son mixed up in all of that."

Max felt himself tense up. He clenched his hands.

"There's no shame in not being an X-man you know," David said, his voice gentle, "It's not for everyone, and there are other ways to make a difference."

He stiffened at the implication. Both of his parents had been X-men. If they could do it, then surely he could do it too. He was strong enough: he knew he was.

"What would you know?" Max snapped, "You never wanted to be one."

David gave him a long look, something unnamable flickering behind his eyes. From behind him Max heard Remy cough.

"Max, it be gettin late," he said.

"No," David said.

He held up a hand.

"Max, you were five when you left the Institute, so I'm going to tell you something you probably didn't know," David said, "I wanted to be an X-man probably since the minute I was born."

Max didn't say anything. He could see that Remy was clearly uncomfortable, and Rogue's eyes darted around the room.

"I actually trained to become one for three years, from ages thirteen to sixteen," David said.

"Then...why didn't-?" Max said.

"Why didn't I become one?" David asked, "I was evaluated and, despite all of my hard work, it was decided that I wasn't suitable material."

Max's brow furrowed.

"Why-?" he asked.

"It's not that important," David said, "But it had nothing to do with the fact that I was 'Professor X's' son. I just wasn't right for it, and other people saw that before I did. I was ashamed for a long time, because I thought that I was being held back."

He put his hands back in his pockets.

"Then I grew up and I realized that being in the X-men...it's not the only option," David said, "But I think that your mother has done you a great service in making you think about what it is you want out of life. You need to appreciate the sacrifices that you would be making, and a lot of people don't appreciate that."

The knife in Max's pocket seemed heavier than ever now.

"If you think about things, and you still want to be an X-man, than that's great," David said, "But don't do it just because you think you have to since the rest of your family did."

David pushed away from the door and headed down the hall. There was a long silence in the room.

"I didn't know," Max said at last.

"Nah, ya didn't," Remy said.

He drummed his fingers against the armchair.

"Max, Remy thinks ya a good guy, but ya need more'n that to make it in the X-men," he said, "Remy was surprised when he heard about ya mama's opinion, but, well..."

He got up.

"It's not all fun an games ya know," he said, "We deal wit some pretty nasty people."

His face became brooding. Max suddenly realized that he didn't have to wonder if Remy had killed anyone anymore.

"So ya got a decision," Remy said, "Make a good one, kay?"

Max closed his eyes and nodded. Remy gave a half smile to Rogue before he left the room. Rogue reached over and touched Max's shoulder.

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

Max squeezed his eyes shut tighter.

"I don't have a damn clue," he said.


	20. Chapter 20

August 17, 1992

"How long are you going to be delayed?" Lorna asked.

Angel shifted the pay phone. She glanced at Luna, who was reading a book and swinging her legs. All around them the airport buzzed with life, and she looked at the flight schedule again, hoping it had changed. It hadn't.

"I think we're going to have to stay the night," Angel said, "There's some sort of storm in Miami right now, and it's causing merry hell with the schedules. I've booked another flight, but it doesn't take off until tomorrow. Unless the storm dies down..."

"I understand," Lorna said.

She sighed on the other side of the phone.

"It's just...Alex hasn't been able to come because of what's happening with Sean and Terry and...Max..." she said.

Angel's heart broke. She remembered how Max had looked when Alex left the house with him. He'd been shell-shocked, shying away from even the smallest touch. He'd forced himself to see Luna, ashamed of what he'd done to her. Luna understood that it hadn't been on purpose, but that didn't make it any easier for Max.

She could hear the pain in Lorna's voice, and she wished that she could help. All she could do was make sure that Luna didn't run off and was taken care of. She couldn't do anything for Lorna. They were still several states apart at the moment.

"I'll be there as soon as I can," Angel said, "And Max is going to see his sister, okay?"

"I trust you Angel," Lorna said, "Just be safe."

Angel bit the inside of her cheek. Lorna had always trusted her. She knew that she hadn't always taken the best care of that trust, but Lorna kept trusting her. It was moments like that that made Angel joyful to be free of her old life.

"Of course," Angel said, "And hey, you wanna talk to Luna?"

"Of course," Lorna said.

Angel put another quarter into the phone and handed it to Luna. Luna tossed her book aside and eagerly reached for the phone.

"Thanks Aunt Angel!" Luna said.

Angel smiled. Aunt Angel. It was her favorite title.

* * *

The town outside of Westchester was pretty and picturesque. Sharon knew that the Xavier family had been the primary land owners of the area for over two hundred years. They were ingrained into the land and, like them, it had its own secrets.

The town was forthright though, unlike the school that towered high above it all. She was glad that David had offered to drive her out to the town. She was grateful that David had thought of it, especially since she knew that she wasn't the only one who needed to get out for a bit.

He'd looked a little unsettled when she'd asked if Rahne could come, although she wasn't sure why. In the end Rogue, Remy, and Max had been asked if they wanted to come as well, and from somewhere Bobby had managed to get in on things.

It was nice to get out for a while. The Institute held fond memories for Sharon, but it could get stifling at times. She didn't understand how David, Kurt and Terry had managed to grow up around so much chaos.

All of it only managed to make her homesick. Sharon had a suspicion that she wasn't going to go home anytime soon. She didn't want to be selfish, but she was getting tired of repeating that in her head.

Everything had seemed to happen at once. First David's father had been comatose, then Magneto had escaped and Terry had been attacked. The X-men were out too, and that couldn't mean anything was a politician's daughter, so she knew how to prioritize, even though all she wanted to do was see her parents, ask her mother what she should do with David.

She walked up to a window display and peered in. A variety of different items met her eyes, but it wasn't anything that interested her enough to go in. Rahne was looking at it curiously though, as was Rogue. When Rogue went in Rahne followed her.

Sharon smiled to herself. She was glad that Rahne was moving outside of her comfort zone. When she had first come to the Institute she'd been afraid to leave Sharon's side for more than five minutes.

"Sharon, have you seen Kurt?" David asked.

Sharon looked away from the window display.

"He didn't come with us, did he?" she asked.

"No, but his room's been locked for a while and he hasn't answered the door," David said, "I was wondering if you'd seen him out and about since yesterday."

She shook her head and David let out a frustrated breath.

"I hope he's not doing anything stupid: I can only cover for him for so long," David said.

"Why's that?" Sharon asked.

"My parents are wondering where he is, and I'm two seconds away from asking my father to use Cerebro," David said.

She brushed away some of her hair.

"That bad, huh?" he asked.

David scratched the back of his neck. Sharon didn't notice that he moved a little away from her when she rocked near him. She narrowed her eyes a little.

Although she knew that whatever had almost happened a few days ago had confused him, she didn't like the sudden awkwardness that he was portraying.

"It's going to turn out that he's just gone into the attic or something stupid," David said.

"But you're worried about him," Sharon said.

"I always worry about him," David said, "I have a hard time helping it."

He rubbed the back of his neck and breathed out slowly.

"I'm sorry I can't take you back home right now," he said.

The words came out of nowhere. They were quiet, but Sharon couldn't quite hear the regret in them. She wondered why David was being so stiff, but lately she had begun to wonder if she knew him as well as she thought she did.

"Well, it wouldn't be fair to ask for that with everything that's going on with Terry," Sharon said.

David shuffled his feet.

"If you really want, I could take you home," he said, "It would be difficult but-"

"Don't worry about it," Sharon said.

She wished she could say something different, but she couldn't. For a moment David looked at the ground.

"I think that one of the big barriers for you going home is the fact that I don't want you to," he said.

Sharon paused. She turned and looked at David, seeing his eyes for the first time. He gave her a half shrug, his expression strange.

"What?" she asked.

"Sharon, I'm not good with these kinds of things," he said, "I mean, I managed to word this in such a way that you misunderstood me."

He waved his hand to the town, the motion vague. Sharon continued to stare at him still unsure what it was he'd tried to say, scared that he didn't mean what she thought he did.

"But...for the longest time I've been afraid to tell you just how amazing I think you are," he said.

Sharon's breath caught in her throat. David laughed slightly and looked at the sky.

"You know I've never had a lot of self-confidence," he said, "And, even with that, you've always made me feel like there were no limitations. I've been so scared of losing that that...I didn't really make a decision as fast as I should have."

He looked over at her and smiled. A few tears gathered in her eyes. Something slipped over him then, a sort of self-assuredness she'd in him before, a sense of relief that, whatever the outcome, he had done what needed to be done.

"So I would like to tell you that I love you," he said, "And that I would like to invite you out sometime before you go home. Now if you want."

Words got stuck in her throat as David looked at her, his expression gentle and patient. After a few minutes her tongue started working again.

"But...you don't...this..." she said.

She faltered. David gave a wry smile.

"What made you think that I wasn't asking you out?" he asked.

She stared at him, hating that her words were coming out disjointed.

"You're not...you don't see me that way," she said.

David laughed.

"I told you I'd done it wrong," he said, "If I'd done it right it wouldn't seem so strange when I told you."

He ran a hand through his hair.

"Sharon, I know I'm all kinds of messed up," he said, "But I'm trying to be better. I'm through stalling and worrying about whether or not I'm good enough or strong enough. I've decided..."

His eyes met hers.

"I've decided that I should let you decide that," David said.

Sharon felt like crying.

"What took you so long?" she asked.

"I was stupid," he said.

Sharon walked up to him and took his hand.

"How many times do I have to tell you that you're not stupid?" Sharon asked.

"A few more I suppose," David said.

She laughed and smiled. David paused for a moment before leaning in. Sharon froze as his lips brushed hers. A second passed and she closed her eyes and kissed him back, unsure of what she was doing.

David had no such compunctions. She'd told Rahne that she didn't know just why kissing was considered so romantic, that she hoped that she would find out one day. His lips moved against hers, warm and welcoming. She felt like she was melting and wrapped her hands around his neck.

He pulled away and leaned forward so his forehead touched hers.

"I wish I'd done that earlier," he said.

"Then you're just going to have to make it up to me," she said.

She kissed his cheek, feeling his skin beneath her lips in all of its warmth. She heard him take a sharp breath.

"Let's go get dinner," she said.

David grinned. He put his hand on her shoulder just as his phone rang. They both jumped. Sharon laughed nervously and David rolled his eyes as he fished his phone out.

"David Xavier," David said.

He rolled his eyes again.

"Jeez Kurt, you've got some timing," he said, "What's up?"

There was a pause. David closed his eyes.

"You're where?" he asked

Sharon cocked her head as David pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Of course you did, that's a pretty damn long series of teleportations," he said, "Do you have any idea how much trouble you'd be in if mom and dad found out?"

David opened his eyes and sighed.

"What are older brothers for?" he asked.

He nodded and clicked off his phone.

"What's wrong?" Sharon asked.

"Remember Amanda?" David said.

"Of course," Sharon said.

"Kurt went to go visit her," David said.

Sharon laughed, and then she saw David's expression.

"You're serious," she said.

"Unfortunately," David said, "He can't teleport back: it seems like he thought about visiting Amanda, and then forgot that he can't exactly do that many teleportations back with anything approaching a quick turnaround. He's burned himself out."

He shook his head and put his phone away.

"I need to get up there before our parents find out," he said, "They won't exactly be understanding with everything that's been happening lately."

David looked at her.

"Boston's not that far from D.C," he said.

His tone was regretful. Sharon smiled, although there wasn't much mirth in it.

"They're actually rather far apart. You need to look at a map sometime," she said.

"No, what I mean is that...that would have to be my excuse for leaving," David said, "Either that or I tell my parents about the first dumb stunt that Kurt's pulled."

Sharon walked up to David and put her hand on his face. He leaned into it and Sharon managed a smile. She had to agree with David: Kurt's timing was terrible. If she agreed to David's plan then she'd get to go home, but she would be leaving a blossoming relationship behind.

She understood though. Kurt was David's little brother, and he needed him. Besides, he was Sharon's friend too.

"Well, it's a long way to Boston, isn't it?" she said.

"Yes," he said.

He sounded confused.

"Then you can buy me dinner on the road," she said.

David smiled and put his hands on her waist.

"I really should have done this earlier," he said.


	21. Chapter 21

August 17, 1992

The wreckage that had been fished from the river had yielded nothing. Scott hadn't been surprised. The only real clue that they'd been given from Warren's death had been transmitted to Ororo. He'd known that they would need to look elsewhere.

They had started with a few of Worthington Industries's holdings in the city. There were many of them, but only one of them was still in full production. The board was busy scrambling for a new CEO after Warren's sudden death, and all of the higher-level production had been temporarily halted.

Ororo, in addition to conducting the investigation, had to stave off a flurry of phone calls. Warren had, apparently, left most of his shares to her. The rest had been given to the Institute, perhaps to make sure that the school always had a way to make money.

Scott had never seen eye to eye with Warren. They were, in the end, too different to really be friends. However, he respected him, and he respected his choice of death. Scott would have liked to think, in his position, he'd have the nerves to send the plane plummeting into Boston Harbor rather than let his attackers win.

The factory at the edge of the city looked like it was in good repair and use, but as Scott lowered his binoculars he'd already found a list of things wrong with it.

"There aren't any cars there," he said.

Ororo shut her phone.

"None?" she asked, "At three on a weekday?"

"None," Scott said.

"And the factory's in full production," Jean said.

They exchanged a look.

"We go in cautiously," he said, "And if we see anything strange we can act, but only if we think that we can overpower them. At best we'll be able to find out information and then withdraw. If things go right we can leave, call for reinforcements, and go in later."

Ororo and Jean nodded. Scott made a motion with his hand and the three of them moved forwards. The gates were tightly locked, but Scott had a set of lock picks in his coat. He remembered the long afternoons when Alex had taught him how to pick just about any lock. Alex had some rudimentary knowledge, knowledge that was expanded by his time in the X-men and with Lorna.

He selected the appropriate picks and began to work on the lock. After a moment the gate swung open. They stepped inside and moved through the factory. It was empty, but he could still hear sounds of production.

Scott pressed himself against the wall. Ororo and Jean looked at him. He made a motion forwards and then put a finger to his lips. They didn't know how many people were around the corner. There were only three of them, and they would have to be cautious.

He was just about to move around the corner when a flurry of noise broke out. It sounded like a fight. Scott made a face and looked at Jean and Ororo. Both of them were confused. He turned back, ready to move once again, when the wall in front of him broke.

A red and black-clad figure went flying through, hitting the wall behind them. Scott stared as the man got up and drew a gun. Scott ducked, but the man fired into the hole in the wall. A flurry of footsteps accompanied the shots.

Sabretooth pushed himself through the hole in the wall, growling. Scott turned the dial on his goggles up and sent him flying. He looked back at the red and black-clad man, who narrowed his eyes.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked.

"I could ask the same thing," Scott said.

"I think questions can wait," Jean said.

She pointed. Several people were coming through the gap in the wall, led by a woman covered with fur. Her claws were out and she hissed at them. The men with guns began firing and Scott swore to himself. Their stealth attack was blown.

He made a motion, and the X-men fanned out. Two of the soldiers began firing at Ororo, but she dodged their bullets. Jean was weaving through a few soldiers, and Scott zeroed in on Sabretooth. Sabretooth growled at him, and Scott turned his dial up to full strength. Even as his blast hit Sabretooth and his flesh burned away, Scott wasn't concerned. He would heal.

Behind him the red and black-clad man was fighting the furred woman. She was laughing as she dodged his swords.

"You look familiar," she said, "Oh, wait, you were at the prison, weren't you?"

Scott sent a few more blasts at some of the soldiers. He began moving towards the fighting pair, wondering what this was about.

"How's your little red-head friend?" the woman laughed.

The red and black-clad man's eyes narrowed and lashed out at her with his sword. Scott paused. He opened his mouth, everything clicking into place. The man was Deadpool, the man that had left, the man that his brother had sworn at over the phone. This woman was the one who had broken Sinister out of prison with Sabretooth.

From behind him he heard a growl. Scott turned around and managed to dodge Sabretooth's next attack. He stepped around him and sent another blast at him. This time Sabretooth dodged it and kept coming.

Scott moved. He felt Sabretooth's claws swipe the air where he'd been standing only seconds before. He lashed out with his foot and managed to catch Sabretooth in the stomach. Scott saw Ororo pause what she was doing and look over at him. He made a small motion with his hand and Ororo moved forward. Fighting someone like Sabretooth alone was never a good idea.

Sabretooth swiped at him again. Scott ducked under his arm and sent a full optic blast into his chest. Sabretooth was forced backwards and Ororo raised her hand. A bolt of thunder struck Sabretooth, leaving him sizzling on the ground. It would hold him for a while.

Next to him Jean was finishing up with two of the soldiers. Scott sent a blast at one of them, and she forced another one into a wall. He jerked his head over to where Deadpool was fighting the furred woman. The woman laughed.

"Was she yours?" the woman asked.

Deadpool lashed out with one of his swords while dropping the other. A second later he pulled a gun from his holster with his free hand. Scott had a split second to register the movement before the bullet ripped into the woman's shoulder. If she hadn't moved it would've hit her heart.

The woman howled and there was the sound of running feet. Scott heaved a heavy sigh and motioned at Ororo and Jean. They were outnumbered: they'd have to get out of the area before things got any worse.

"Deadpool!" Scott yelled.

The man turned, one of his eyes quirked.

"I don't know you. I woulda remembered someone with lava eyes," Deadpool said.

"If you want to help Terry then you'll leave right now!" Scott yelled, "You won't be doing anything productive here!"

Deadpool tensed. For a moment Scott wondered if Deadpool was going to shoot him. He certainly looked like he was considering it. Instead he holstered his gun. When they began running out of the factory, he followed them.

There were more soldiers guarding the entryway and the exits. The place was teeming with them. Scott sent out a few optic blasts. He could only surmise that they had set up a base of operations there, although he had no idea what they were making.

Warren had said that he had destroyed all of the files on Trask's computer. If he'd had any stored away though, they could all be in big trouble. He heard gunshots behind him and saw that Deadpool was firing at them. Jean was using her telekinesis to clear a path, and Ororo was trying to control the winds to help her.

They burst out into the sunlight. They still had some running to do, but they were almost in the clear.

"Hey, lava face!"

Scott turned his head. Deadpool was still looking at him curiously, his eyes quirked.

"How the hell do ya know who I am?" he asked.

"Terry was one of my best students," Scott said.

His voice came out sharp. He couldn't help it, just like he couldn't help adding his next few words.

"And when we have a moment or two of peace I'm going to punch you in the face," Scott said.

Deadpool's eyebrows raised, but he just shrugged.

"You can certainly try," he said.

"Do you have any idea what that was back there?" Scott asked.

"Not really," Deadpool said, "Just followed those assholes there. Woulda liked to kill em, but they don't go down easy."

He fished something out of his belt. They moved across the street and into the woods. They would reach the Blackbird soon. Deadpool waved a floppy disc at them.

"Stole this from one of their computers," he said, "Thinkin it's encrypted, but I'm thinkin it might help."

"You may be right," Scott said.

* * *

"So what do we do?"

Erik pulled the binoculars away from his face. Emma stood next to him, her arms crossed. The rest of the Brotherhood stood further back.

"Because if we're attacking," Lance said, "Then I suggest we do it before they get to the Blackbird."

"We're not attacking," Erik said.

"Why not?" Lance asked.

Erik looked at him, his eyes cold. Lance shuffled his feet and fell silent. While he had been gone it appeared that Lance had grown bold. No more.

"Because there's a more interesting target," Erik said.

He passed his binoculars to Emma. He saw her look over at the factory, her face thoughtful.

"Sabretooth was our contact for that machine," she said, "It seems very strange that he'd cut and run. I thought that someone might have taken him into custody, perhaps those strange people that the Cassidys work for."

She tossed her binoculars over her shoulder. Boom-Boom caught them, looking nervous.

"So what's he doing in there?" Emma asked.

"With any luck, Mystique will find out momentarily," Erik said.

"She's in there?" Boom-Boom asked.

"She's the best suited to this sort of work," Erik said.

He turned away from the scene.

"Let the X-men conclude their investigation. I don't think that it will concern us," he said, "But when Mystique comes back here, then we have a very simple, clear path ahead of us."

"Which is?" Lance asked.

His voice was arrogant. Erik gave him a thin smile.

"It's simple," he said, "We have a little talk with our erstwhile friend. I think that Sabretooth may have a few things that he wishes to discuss with us."

* * *

David got into the car. He looked over at Sharon, who was seated on the passenger's side.

"So your parents think that Kurt's with us?" she asked.

"Yep," he said, "And as far as they know, we're not going anywhere near Boston. Just down to D.C. and then straight back up."

He put his keys in the ignition and started up the car.

"How fast do you think we'll be able to get down there?" she asked.

"Pretty fast," David said.

He pulled the car out of the driveway. Sharon reached over and touched his spare hand. He fought the urge to take his hand off the steering wheel and kiss her again. He still had a hard time believing that that afternoon had happened at all. Such casual contact between the two of them seemed so strange.

"You're being a good brother right now," Sharon said.

"It's the first time he's needed me like this," David said, "I can't help wanting to help him."

"Finally," Sharon said, "you're giving yourself some credit."

David laughed and pulled out of the driveway.


	22. Chapter 22

August 17, 1992

"She's coming back?" Carly asked.

Hank smiled at the look on his wife's face. He'd missed Sharon too, and he hadn't expected to have her come home soon with everything that had been happening at the Institute. He had even briefly considered throwing away his obligations for a day or two and getting her himself.

"They should be here in a day or so," Hank said.

Carly sighed in relief. Hank sat down next to her and put his hand over hers.

"It seems like it's been longer than a few weeks," he said.

"She's always stayed so close to home," Carly said.

She cocked her head.

"But...David's bringing her, isn't he?" she asked.

"David and Kurt apparently," Hank said.

"Hm," Carly said.

"What's the 'hm' for?" Hank asked.

"Well, Kurt could just teleport her down here if they were in a hurry," Carly said, "And I hope it means...well...you know how she feels about David, don't you?"

Hank gave her a blank look.

"What?" he asked.

Carly laughed softly.

"She's loved him since she was fifteen," Carly said.

Hank stared at her, feeling stunned. His mind slowly processed his wife's words. She continued to look at him, her expression patient.

"I'm not sure I was ready for that," he said, "You didn't tell me."

He knew how pouty it sounded, but Carly just put her hand on his shoulder.

"It wasn't really up to me to tell," Carly said.

"She seems young to be dating," Hank said.

He continued before his wife could say something, her lips already turning into a frown.

"Not that she is too young, just that she seems young," Hank said.

Carly nodded, understanding. Hank sighed.

"Well...David's a fine young man," he said, "If it had to be someone, I'm glad that it's him."

"Me too," Carly said, "Me too."

* * *

David glanced over at Sharon. She was asleep, her head tilted back and her thick hair acting as a pillow. She looked peaceful, and David wished that he could get some sleep himself.

It wasn't in the cards though. David didn't really mind: this wasn't the first time that he'd had to drive all night. Being a law student had also gotten him used to staying up late.

There were other reasons why he didn't sleep often, but all of them seemed irrelevant now. The voices were there, and always would be, but David felt a little differently about them.

He hated them, of course he did, but there wasn't a way to get rid of them. It was better to focus on the things that he had instead of the things that he didn't because of it.

If he had been an X-man, then it was likely that he would have been off helping Scott and the rest in their investigation. Instead he was driving down the road, the woman he loved sleeping soundly next to him, and dealing with problems as easy as a lovesick brother. Life would get more complicated he knew, but there was joy to be had in this moment.

He still wished that he could have been an X-man. His talk with Max had opened up the wound again, but each time it hurt a little less. He'd meant what he'd said: there were other ways to make a difference.

Sharon stretched, her head tilting backwards. She yawned and looked over at David.

"Aren't you tired yet?" she asked.

"I've done long road trips before," he said, "I just need some more coffee. I'll be ready to go after that."

"You could always let me drive," Sharon said.

"No. You're the guest," David said.

"Oh?" she asked, "So does that mean that I get to do anything?"

David tried to say something, but Sharon flipped on the radio. _Smells like Team Spirit_ roared through the speakers and David winced. He hated grunge. Sharon laughed.

"What?" she asked, "I'm the guest."

"Is that going to be how it is?" David asked.

He grinned as he spoke. Sharon cocked her head to the side. David forced himself to keep his eyes on the road. There were some rolling clouds out there, and he would need to be careful if it rained. They had only been together for a few hours, but it made him feel free to know that she knew how he felt.

David was aware that part of the strange nearness he felt, the desperate pleasure in talking about anything, was the fact that she was going home soon. David would return to Westchester, and then he would be off to Connecticut to finish his schooling. Sharon would stay in Washington. They didn't have much time.

For now though, now he just wanted to enjoy the moment.

"Yes," Sharon said.

David blinked and the radio flipped channels. _Life is Highway_ came on.

"Then perhaps you shouldn't play that game with a telekinetic," he said.

"Chivalry is definitely dead," Sharon said.

David laughed as he reached for his tumblr of coffee.

"You never needed anyone to protect you," he said.

Sharon chewed her lip. She looked out the window and David took a sip of his coffee.

"You always tried to anyway," she said.

David almost choked on his coffee.

"I...what did I protect you from?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"I keep telling you that you never gave yourself much credit," she said, "And that's because you don't seem to notice the little things you do that make people feel special, like they can do anything."

Sharon smiled.

"You protected me from a lot of pain back when I was little," she said, "You were the one who seemed to realize that I needed someone who wasn't related to me to tell me that my mother was going to wake up. You gave me space when I needed it, and friendship when I didn't."

Sharon sighed.

"It's why I knew I wanted to be friends with you," she said, "And...over time...I realized that you understood me. You know what my IQ is: it didn't take long for me to make the conclusion that I understood you just as much as you understood me."

David had put his coffee cup down and was looking at her with a serious expression on his face.

"I was fifteen when I figured out how I felt about you," Sharon said, "And I didn't know how you felt about me but...I guess I knew that no one would ever understand me like you did."

Outside the clouds continued to roll in. David used his spare hand to take hers. He ran his fingers over hers.

"And you didn't understand what you did for me," he said, "Having someone there, telling me that I wasn't an idiot, was brave, wasn't a failure even though I felt like it every day of my life."

"You weren't," Sharon said.

"No, I wasn't," David said, "But for the longest time I couldn't understand that. Having you tell me that, unprompted just...it meant a lot. You think I knew what you needed? You were the one who knew what I needed."

His grip on her hand tightened.

"You were protecting me much more than I was protecting you," he said, "And you didn't even know it."

Sharon coughed, a small way to disguise that her throat was tightening. David knew her too well. One of David's hands left hers and touched her cheek, his eyes still on the road. It was a gentle touch, and his fingers ran up the side of her face.

He let go and put his hand on the wheel.

"I'd best keep my hands on the wheel," he joked, "There's a storm on the way."

As soon as he finished speaking a few fat drops of rain came down. David turned on the windshield wipers and Sharon laughed.

"Looks like the storm's already started," she said.

She leaned over and kissed his cheek.

"You know," she said, "I never said I loved you back."

David forced himself to keep his hands on the wheel. There weren't many cars on the road, but he wasn't going to bet his life on that.

"I sort of inferred that," he said, "Was I wrong?"

"No," Sharon said, "But don't you want to hear me say it?"

There was a pause. David could feel his chest tightening.

"As a telepath," he said, his voice quiet, "I've never put as much stock in spoken words as other people have. They seem superfluous at times but..."

He swallowed.

"I'll never go into your mind without your permission though," he said, "Especially not to find something like that out. So, yes, I would. But I won't force you."

Sharon cocked an eyebrow.

"It's not forcing when I feel it," she said, "David, I love you."

She kissed his cheek. David felt something inside him release.

"We're going to have to stop this before I kiss you and crash this damn car," he said.

Sharon laughed. She was doing a lot of that lately.

* * *

Erik knelt down. His back hurt him slightly, a curse of his aging body. He couldn't believe how many years had passed since he had first become Magneto, what had transpired since then. It irritated him.

"Now then," Erik said, "I'm not sure if I made the terms of our deal clear to you."

Sabretooth snarled, but it was weak. Emma stood behind him, her arms crossed and her brow furrowed. Erik knew that she was having a difficult time in his mind, but he was confident that she would win out. Mystique stood a little ways off, a smirk on her lips as she prepared another tranquilizer.

He was impressed at the speed with which she had been able to drug Sabretooth and bring him out. The X-men's attack had created enough chaos to give her the time to extract him. Now it was a simple matter of questioning.

The rest of the Brotherhood was in the back, watching and learning. To some extent Erik was dismayed at their membership. Toad was loyal, but he was still somewhat inept. Boom-Boom was still timid, and Lance was still rash. They had lost other members along the way, and the only one that he could say with any certainty who would be competent was Senyaka. He was currently taking care of Toad at the moment.

It was no matter. He had already completed most of his education.

"Now then," Erik said, "Discipline is always needed for those who stray from the path, but you've done a little more than stray, haven't you?"

He smiled. Mystique walked up and injected the tranquilizer into Sabretooth's shoulder. With anyone else they might have considered other methods, but to Sabretooth helplessness was its own torture.

"Now then," he said, "You can either tell us what it was you were planning, or I can have Emma find out for me. Which would you prefer?"

Sabretooth growled, but the sound was getting weaker. Erik waved his hand.

"Emma," he said.

Emma gritted her teeth. Her hands dug into her forearms and Sabretooth howled. Erik waited, his face patient. He noted that Boom-Boom flinched but Lance kept staring ahead. It appeared that his arrogance was giving him strength.

After a few minutes Sabretooth dropped. Emma leaned a little more heavily against the wall and relaxed.

"Well?" Erik asked, "What's going on?"

Emma let out a long breath.

"Magneto," she said, "how much do you care about Westchester?"

Her eyes opened. Erik met her icy blue eyes with his own. He knew that there was more to that question than it appeared. Emma had always been derisive of his old loyalties. She might have thought that she was hiding it, but she wasn't. Erik knew that she had always wanted him to become like the man who had murdered his mother.

He got to his feet.

"It depends what it is you have to say," he said.


	23. Chapter 23

August 18, 1992

Max sat on the porch, his movements fidgety. Rogue leaned against the doorway, looking at him and smiling. She hadn't seen him this excited since his mother had come to the Institute. This time his sister and aunt were coming, their delayed flight finally taking off.

His father was still delayed, and she knew that Max was worried about that, but he was also happy about his aunt and sister. Rogue was curious about meeting them too. Max had told her a lot of stories about Luna and his Aunt Angel, the woman who had once been a Brotherhood assassin.

He seemed to have such a strange, fascinating family, a family that he insisted was Rogue's too now. She didn't quite believe him, but she couldn't argue with him. Not when he fixed her with that earnest expression.

In some ways Max seemed older than her. His understanding of the world left her floored sometimes, but when his childish eagerness showed through he made Rogue think of the kid brother she'd never had.

It had hurt to see him in pain. He had never told her the details about what his mother had told him, but she'd seen enough afterwards to know he'd been deeply affected. David had driven the point home, and she couldn't help but feel sorry for Max. It was obvious that he was deep in thought, and for some reason he kept touching his coat pocket.

"Whatcha waitin for chere?"

Rogue didn't turn around as Remy approached. She tensed though, and she wished that she could stop herself. Bobby had given her some odd looks lately, and she knew why. She wanted to tell him that it wasn't that there was anything wrong with him. He was plain and direct, and above all he was kind.

He wasn't adventure and challenge though. Remy provided all of these things, but Rogue wasn't dumb enough to fall for that. She had seen enough girls at her old high school fall for the bad boys to know how that ended up.

It left her in an odd place.

"Max's aunt and sister are coming," she said.

"Ah, more Summers," Remy said, "Just what dis place be needin."

Rogue laughed and ducked her head.

"Angel isn't a Summers," she said.

"She be close enough," Remy said.

"She is close enough."

Remy winced. Lorna gently pushed him aside as she came out to the front.

"She'd love that you said that," Lorna said.

She gave Rogue a soft smile before walking out to join her son. Lorna put a hand on Max's shoulder. He looked up at once. Rogue could see the concern flicker in his face, the same momentary concern that she felt every time someone touched her. It didn't matter that there were layers of cloth between her and the person: there was still that fear.

The concern faded from his face and he grinned. Lorna sat down next to him. They looked so perfect together, a perfect family that Max wanted Rogue to be part of. She took a deep breath. It was hard to believe that she would be invited to join something like that. She still felt like such an outsider sometimes at the Institute.

"Whatcha thinkin chere?" Remy asked.

Rogue debated telling him. As she did a car pulled up. The car had barely stopped before the passenger's door opened. A little girl with her hair in braids burst out of the car door, her feet pounding the pavement.

She knew at once that this was Luna. It wasn't just the fact that there was no one else she could be, but she looked very much like Lorna. Her face was soft where her mother's was sharp though. In a few years Rogue wondered if those looks would be sharpened as the baby fat melted away.

Luna launched herself into her brother's arms. For a minute the concern on his face turned into terror. He'd poisoned his sister in the past. Then the look relaxed and he hugged her back. Luna smiled at him before hugging her mother.

A slender Hispanic woman got out from the driver's side of the car. Her hair was cropped short and she looked tired. Angel. Angel waved cheerfully at Max and smiled at Lorna. Rogue thought about what Max had told her about Angel, how her care for Lorna had turned her into family.

Angel joined them and there were more hugs. It was complete now, all except for Max's father. She had no doubt that he would smile and look at his family as though they were his world too.

Rogue tightened her grip on the doorway. She thought of Max's invitation with an aching heart. More than anything, she wished she had been born into that family.

"It makes ya want it somethin fierce, don't it?"

She looked at Remy out of the corner of her eye. To her surprise his face was understanding.

"Do ya not...not...?" she tried.

Remy laughed and shook his head.

"Last time Remy saw his brother he tried ta kill Remy," he said.

Rogue stared at him. Remy put his hands into his pockets, his expression quietly accepting.

"Remy knows how it is ta see somethin and want it," Remy said, "It were a while ago, but I remember."

He smiled to himself and then turned away.

"Who... who did you envy?" Rogue said.

She barely managed to get her question out when Remy turned to look at her. It was difficult to talk when Remy fixed her with his black and red eyes, that strange understanding still there.

"The Xaviers," he said.

Rogue frowned. She hadn't seen much of them as a family, so she supposed that she couldn't make a good judgement, but it still seemed strange.

"Why them?" she asked.

Remy grinned.

"Because David and Kurt take care of each other," he said.

* * *

"So keep tight, and for the love of God, don't do anything stupid."

Kurt winced and shifted the phone. His brother's tone held no condemnation, only a strange amount of amusement and exasperation. At the same time Kurt couldn't help feeling embarrassed. He'd realized what he was doing was silly the moment he'd arrived at Amanda's trailer and half collapsed.

He'd forgotten just how difficult it had been to get everyone to New York, and he'd done that with hour-long stops every four teleportations. At the time he'd thought of them as breaks for the people who were unused to the sulfur, but he'd forgotten that he needed to rest too.

"I won't," Kurt said.

"Alright," David said.

David paused.

"Kurt...for what it's worth...I understand," David said.

Kurt's eyes widened. He sat up.

"You do?" he asked.

He knew just how desperate his voice sounded. He'd hesitated to call his brother at first, feeling silly at what he'd done, feeling like everyone else would think that he was silly too. Up until that point, nothing his brother had said had convinced him that he felt otherwise.

"I really, really do," David said.

Kurt grinned. It was easy to figure out.

"She said yes?"

"Yes," David said.

He chuckled on the other end.

"You know, mom and dad might understand too after they get finished yelling at you for being dumb," David said.

Kurt ran a hand through his hair.

"I think that I'll think on that one for a while," he said.

"Suit yourself," David said, "See you soon."

"See you."

Kurt hung up. He placed the phone on Amanda's bedstand and leaned back. He still felt like he had a headache. Amanda walked in and shook her head at him before sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"Feeling better?" she asked.

"Now, yes," Kurt grinned.

She smiled and laid down next to him. Amanda put her hands on his chest and rested her head on top of them. Kurt flushed, but he still reached out and touched her hair. She closed her eyes.

He let his hand wander down to her face. Amanda opened one eye, her expression lazy.

"Careful," she said, "You know what my brother thinks of you staying in here with me."

Kurt felt his face heat up even more. Stefan had made it quite clear that he was suspicious of Kurt's presence in his sister's trailer. Amanda had angrily pointed out the fact that she had a fold out cot, although for the past nights she had ended up snuggled next to him. It was intimate, although there wasn't anything for Stefan to be concerned about.

Amanda sat up and gestured to the telephone.

"But I guess that your brother's coming to take you away," she said.

"He has to," Kurt said, "Either that or I explain to my parents that I basically ran away to Boston."

Amanda nodded. She grasped his hand.

"I'll miss you," she said, "You just got here."

"I know," Kurt said, "And I haven't been feeling so great since I got here."

"Yeah," Amanda said.

She moved her five fingers so they could be laced through Kurt's three.

"I'm just going to miss you more after this," she said.

Kurt pulled her hand so it rested over his heart.

"Me too," he said.

He swallowed, feeling nervous.

"I haven't told my parents about you," he said.

Amanda looked at him, surprise in her eyes. Kurt could see hurt there too, and suddenly realized how his words could be taken. She had introduced him to her family after all. Why hadn't he told his parents?

"You're my first," he blurted, "My first girlfriend I mean. I don't know..."

Amanda cocked her head and Kurt swallowed.

"I um...I'm not used to knowing what to do with this," he said, "And I know, my parents, I just...I wanted to introduce you to my brother first and, after that, everything was so confused..."

He trailed off.

"I'm sorry," he finished.

Amanda laughed softly, but Kurt saw something in her expression, something tense.

"You really care about your brother's opinion, don't you?" she asked.

"David's my best friend," Kurt said, "People like to talk about animosity between brothers and all that but with David...all I can remember is him taking care of me, being my friend. When I found out I was adopted he was the one who showed me it didn't matter."

The words were clunky in his throat. Kurt didn't like to think about being adopted. Some part of him seemed to whisper that, if he just ignored it, it would go away. He had told Amanda about it long ago though. It felt like it was something that you shared, especially when you told the other person in the relationship that you loved them.

"He was always the strong one," Kurt said.

"And if he hadn't liked me?" Amanda asked.

Kurt pushed himself up, frowning.

"I'd have been upset," he said, "But it wouldn't have changed anything."

Amanda smiled, but the expression was too quick.

"Amanda, what's wrong?" Kurt asked.

She sighed and pushed some hair out of he face.

"Kurt, I'm a circus performer," she said, "I was only toying with the idea of college before you met me, and the more I learn about you the more I wonder how on earth we ever met, let alone ended up dating."

"What do you mean?" Kurt asked.

"You come from a good family, lots of old money, your brother's going to be a lawyer, expensive, important things," Amanda said.

Her voice was an angry mumble. A thought struck Kurt and his eyes widened.

"Amanda, I'm not ashamed of you," Kurt said.

Amanda shook her head.

"I know you're not," she said, "But sometimes it feels like we're different, that there are things that I won't understand-"

Kurt put a hand on her shoulder. Amanda stopped and looked at him. Kurt wanted to tell her that she was right. There were things she didn't know, like about the X-men, the attack on his brother when they were younger, countless secrets that had never seemed important before now.

They weren't his secrets to tell though: he wasn't even an X-man. He struggled to keep the syllables down. Amanda sighed in the silence after his touch.

"It's stupid, I know," she said.

He forced the words away and smiled.

"And I'm going to get called a fair amount of things for coming down here," Kurt said, "It's not important Amanda. Not when we know better."

Amanda smiled and cupped his face with her hands.

"I don't want you to go," she said, "I don't know if I can let you."

Kurt reached up and pulled her into his arms. His tail wrapped around her waist and, for a moment, all he could see was the light glinting off her hair.

"We don't have too much time," Kurt said, "I'm sorry about that."

"Life, you know?" Amanda said.

Kurt kissed her forehead.

"But...do you want to go out?" he said, "I'm definitely well enough for that."

Amanda looked up at him and smiled.

"Milkshakes?" she asked.

"Milkshakes," Kurt agreed.


	24. Chapter 24

August 18, 1992

David looked around the square uncertainly. Sharon looked at ease next to him as people milled around. Kurt had told her that he would meet him there, but David' hadn't seen hide nor hair of him since he'd come into the square fifteen minutes ago.

He glanced at his watch. Kurt was at least ten minutes late, or David was ten minutes lost. There were too many people coming out for the night life. He pulled out his phone and began to dial his brother's number. Sharon put a hand on his forearm to stop him.

"I think you're forgetting who you're with," Sharon said.

He put his phone away, his eyebrows raised. Sharon took a deep sniff and smiled. She pointed towards the other side of the square.

"That way," she said.

"And here I was thinking cats only got caught up trees," David said.

Sharon tilted her head.

"Are you calling me a cat?" she asked.

"You have a cat's eyes," David said.

Sharon kept her head tilted. David smiled and put his arm around her shoulder.

"Beautiful cat's eyes," he said.

Sharon nodded.

"Good save," she said.

They walked to the other side of the square. David saw Kurt next to Amanda. The two of them were talking about something, he couldn't make out just what it was, but they were both animated.

Kurt turned and saw them. He waved and David waved back. Kurt wrapped a hand around Amanda's waist and walked up to them. Kurt gave David a sheepish look, but David wasn't there to lecture him. He just nodded at Sharon. He'd meant what he said earlier: he had understood.

He just wished that Kurt had decided on a better time to start taking cross-country trips.

"I'm guessing, from the fact that you're still wearing your old clothes, that you didn't bother to pack?" David asked.

Kurt blushed and Amanda laughed. David was struck by the pair they made: shining and happy. His parents would understand if they could see them like this. David wondered if the two of them had ever felt like Kurt and Amanda did, like leaving without saying a word to anyone was preferable to not seeing one another.

A second later he cursed himself for his stupidity. Of course they had. How could he think otherwise in light of what his father had told him? Besides, even when David was little, he'd seen the looks they'd given each other.

"It seems a little early to go out on the road though," Kurt said, "We can get dinner first, right?"

He could hear the pleading in his brother's tone. Part of David wanted to tell Kurt no, that they needed to get going as fast as possible. David's arm was still over Sharon's shoulder though, and stars were out.

Suddenly dinner seemed like a great idea.

"Of course," he said.

Kurt grinned and his eyes wandered over to Sharon.

"Double date?" he asked.

Sharon laughed and punched David lightly on the side. He could see the joy in her face though, and David couldn't help but feel that there was something in travelling the slow route sometimes.

* * *

"This place is huge mom," Luna yawned.

Lorna sat on the edge of her daughter's bed.

"It's a school," she said, "It's supposed to be big."

Luna nodded and looked around. Her daughter had said that Westchester reminded her of a palace. Lorna supposed that it was coded in her children's genes to like Westchester, to appreciate the beauty and peace it could offer.

"Will I be going here when I get older?" Luna asked, "If I'm a mutant?"

Lorna's heart ached. She didn't like the idea of having to send her daughter so far away as well as her son. Her daughter hadn't manifested her mutation yet, if she had one, and Lorna didn't like to think that it would be as dangerous as Max's had turned out to be.

"Maybe," she said.

Luna nodded and snuggled into her blankets.

"Is Max coming home with us after this?" she asked.

Lorna closed her eyes.

"No, not yet," she said.

"Why not?" Luna asked.

She looked down at her daughter's innocence. Lorna hadn't had that innocence since she was Luna's age. She could still remember the perfect faith that she'd had in her mother, a faith that had later been transferred to her father.

That faith had been both a blessing and a curse. Lorna didn't say any of this to Luna though. She wasn't even sure if Max was old enough to know, let alone her little daughter.

"He just needs to stay a little longer," she said, "But we'll be here for two weeks."

"And dad?" Luna asked.

Lorna thought of Providence, of her husband being called because one of his oldest friends had needed him.

"He'll be here soon, and then we'll all be together," Lorna said, "I'm sure you'll love that."

Luna nodded and yawned.

"It looks like it's time for you to go to sleep," Lorna said.

"I'm not sleepy," Luna said.

"You are though," Lorna said.

She got up and turned off the light.

"Good night Luna," she said.

"Night mom."

Lorna shut the door and walked down the hall. Her only thought was getting to sleep. Luna's questions had brought up a few painful memories, and her own doubts about the future. She could pretend that their visit to Max would make everything better, but she knew that it wasn't that simple. His mutation would still be uncontrollable for several more years.

Then there was the developing situation with the X-men. The Professor had asked her to stand as extra security in case something happened. She'd felt uncertain about bringing Luna to the Institute in light of this, but if something was going to happen in the world to mutants then the Institute was the safest place to be.

Lorna couldn't help but worry though. She had barely made it to her room when her cell phone rang. She picked it up and put it to her ear.

"Lorna Summers," she said.

"How's it going?"

Lorna smiled and held the phone close to her face.

"Everything's going fine Alex," she said, "Angel and Luna arrived this afternoon."

"Great," Alex said, "I'm glad that the flights didn't get delayed again. Calvin told me that the storm down there was getting pretty bad. How's our little princess doing?"

"Luna's fine," Lorna said, "She loves it here."

"We all did," Alex said.

Lorna thought of her earlier thoughts and felt some of the tension drain out of her. Alex always knew what to say.

"I miss you."

"I miss you too," he said.

He cleared his throat.

"Lorna, I booked a flight that'll take me down there," he said.

Lorna felt her heart leap up.

"Really?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said, "It's a day from now, but I've been talking to Sean. Terry's back on her feet again, and he seems to be doing fine. She's stable, and she's rearing to get back onto the field."

Alex sighed.

"It's her way of coping I suppose, and I'm glad that she listens to Sean," he said, "He wants her to take it easy for a while, learn how to fight without her voice before she goes out again."

"So there still hasn't been any progress?" Lorna asked.

"Not really," Alex said, "I don't have too much faith in these SHIELD drugs. I don't have too much faith in these SHIELD people to be perfectly honest. They give me the creeps."

"Careful, they might be listening," Lorna said.

Alex roared with laughter on the other end, but they both had a pretty good idea of how strange the organization that Sean worked for was.

"I already checked the room for bugs," he said.

Lorna smiled.

"Hurry home," she said.

"Hey, I've never been able to stay away from you for long," Alex said, "Combine that with the kids, and it's like one giant magnet pulling me towards wherever you are."

Lorna closed her eyes, feeling the last of the tension drain out of her.

"Well, I am a guiding star," she said.

"Damn right you are," Alex said.

* * *

"Seriously? You guys can't move any faster? I gave you that thing like three chapters ago!"

"What are you talking about?" Scott demanded.

Deadpool made a face and pouted. Scott rubbed his temples and saw that Ororo was doing the same thing. Jean was concentrated on finishing decrypting the disk, so she was concentrated on her work. At least she didn't have to pay attention to Deadpool's ravings. The man was driving him insane.

Scott let his thoughts drift to Terry. She had always been a timid girl who had unwound slowly as time went by. She had been responsible, and he'd always trusted her judgement. She'd been a model student. How had she put up with Deadpool for more than five minutes, let alone long enough to fall in love with him? Then again, hadn't Sean asked Alex that since the two of them had become a couple?

Alex. Scott wished that he was with him at the moment. They had been funneling most of their energy into decrypting the disk, so they hadn't gone out on a mission since then. It was making Deadpool antsy, and Scott was getting tired of dealing with him. If Alex was there he might have already just fried him and had done with it.

"I've got it!" Jean said.

Scott got up and leaned over her shoulder. Files began to pop up on the Blackbird's computer. There were several different folders, a few of them with the Trask Industries logo on them.

Jean ignored them though, and hesitated over a smaller folder in the corner. She clicked on it and a few statistics came up.

"This one was the one that had the most data protections," she said.

Her voice seemed uncertain though. Scott looked at the folder.

"All I can see is shipping statistics," he said.

"Shipping?" Deadpool said, "Bo-ring. Where're they staying next? I need to blow that place up yesterday."

Jean ignored him and continued scrolling down the folder. She clicked on one of the files and several numbers appeared on the screen.

"Cyclops..." she whispered.

Scott pushed himself away and buckled into his seat. He heard Ororo and Deadpool scramble into their seats as he started the Blackbird's engines.

"What's happening?" Ororo said.

"We need to get to Westchester," Scott said, "Right now."

Ororo's eyes widened. She hurried to get her headphones are.

"Hey, I'm still here to kill people," Deadpool said.

"Then jump out of the plane," Scott snapped, "But we're going to New York, and we're going to New York now!"

Deadpool's eyes narrowed, but Scott couldn't care. He switched the Blackbird on and guided it into take-off position. Under normal circumstances he would have let Jean take control of the plane. There wasn't time for her to get into the main pilot seat though. He'd switch positions later.

He waited until they were over the city and the signal was clear before he began talking again.

"Marvel, radio Westchester right now," Scott said, "I need to get the Professor on and tell him what's happening."

Jean began turning the radio dials, trying to get the right frequency. Scott looked over at Ororo.

"What's our ETA?" he asked.

"About forty five-minutes if we push it," she said.

"Can we make it thirty?" Scott asked.

Ororo stared at him, her hands frozen.

"What's going on?" she asked.

Scott was about to answer when an explosion jolted the Blackbird forward.

"Engine one is down!" Jean shouted.

Scott struggled with the controls as the Blackbird spiralled downwards towards the city below them.


	25. Chapter 25

August 18, 1992

"-and David wasn't about to let that go," Kurt said.

David shook his head and laughed. Next to him Sharon raised her eyebrows and grinned.

"So what did you do?" she asked.

David threw his hands up. He felt a little exasperated, but there was something rather amusing about the situation. It felt very comfortable, very normal. It was just the four of them at a table at a small restaurant, the food almost finished off, telling stories about their childhood.

"I launched myself at him," David said, "A teacher had to pull me off."

"Isn't Jaime twice your age?" Sharon asked.

"He wasn't that much older," David said, "Besides, he'd also just infuriated a boy who had lofty ideals of chivalry and what his duty was towards his brother. I guess I went a little crazy."

"It makes sense to me. I would've hit him," Amanda said.

Kurt turned his head a little in Amanda's direction, his eyes both touched and surprised. David smiled at the absolute certainty in her tone. It appeared that Kurt's girlfriend didn't quite share his pacifistic ideals.

"Well so would I," Sharon said, "I'm just surprised you did it immediately after he said that. I would've though you'd have thought about it for a bit first."

"I didn't get thoughtful until I was a little older," David said, "By all rights I should've gotten the tar beaten out of me, but I think that I caught Jaime by surprise."

"It certainly gave you some experience for when you got older," Sharon said.

Amanda shook her head and took a sip of her soda. Sharon finished up the last of her fries and then started picking them off David's plate. He decided not to stop her: he wasn't even hungry. Kurt noticed though and looked over at David. David just shrugged.

David went to pick up his soda, but noticed that the liquid inside of the glass was trembling. He frowned and looked at it a little closer. Suddenly the crockery began rattling, as well as the ground. Everyone in the restaurant was starting to notice as the tremors got stronger and stronger.

"What on earth?" Sharon said.

Feeling strange, David got up and looked out the window.

"There aren't any...what's the word...fault lines in Boston, right?" Amanda said.

"Not that I know of," Kurt said, "David?"

He didn't answer. People were standing on the curb, pointing in the sky and taking pictures. Others were running, and David felt something in his heart sink. At the same time he felt the same strange adrenaline that had once led him to drive a car across state lines with a bleeding thief in the back.

"We have to get out of here," David said, "Now."

"Why, what's happening?" Amanda said.

"Nothing good," David said.

Sharon and Kurt got up at once. Amanda still seemed confused, but she followed Kurt. David grabbed Sharon's hand. He knew her father had taught her how to defend herself, but he didn't know just how much. At least he knew that Kurt was combat ready.

As they left the restaurant he saw understanding light up in Kurt and Sharon's eyes as they passed the people on the curb. They knew enough about catastrophes to know it was never good when people were taking pictures.

The ground was still vibrating in an ominous way, a way that made chills run up David's back. Something big was happening, but he wasn't going to stay for the show. He knew it was better to run and then find out more on the evening news.

There were throngs of people in the street. David couldn't believe that they didn't feel the urge to get out of there.

"Don't just stare at it!" he shouted, "Get out of here!"

Only a few people spared him a glance. David thought about the X-men's evacuation plans, but he knew that he had to get Amanda out of there first. She was a civilian, and really, Sharon's mutation wouldn't be much use in their situation.

He thought about where the car was, about how long it would take to get them there. It would be a good idea to have Kurt teleport them, but there were too many people. They couldn't risk Kurt accidentally taking someone else with them.

He could hear Amanda talking in hushed whispers to Kurt. She didn't understand, not really. She was moving though, and he was grateful for that. He supposed that it was the only thing he could really ask for. Amanda hadn't been raised in the eye of a hurricane like they had.

However, David did glance up and behind him for a few seconds. He had to get an idea of what they were running from, if it was even possible to get away in time. If it wasn't he knew that he should just risk having Kurt teleport them away.

He stopped, his hand still wound around Sharon's.

"David?" she asked, "What's-?"

"It's the Blackbird," he said.

Sharon stared at him, her eyes wide. David saw Kurt stop and David felt his heart pound, something cold and terrible behind his eyes.

"It's the damn Blackbird," he said.

Kurt turned and looked. The Blackbird twirled in the sky, at least one of its engines out. There was still some power in its engines or it would have already crashed, but the way it was twirling wasn't good. David had seen enough simulations to know that.

It wobbled back and forth, trying to get its flight pattern back under control. If something wasn't done, then he could tell that it would crash soon. David gripped Sharon's hand tighter, watching as the plane that her father had built careened out of control.

_Oh my. It looks like your friends are going to die, rather horribly. This would be the second time this month, wouldn't it? Your kind really should avoid flying._

The voices, which had been mercifully silent lately, seemed to flare up in full force. David gritted his teeth. His spare hand slowly rose to his temple. He closed his hand, reaching out. It was all he could do.

_Jean?_

It was the only person he could think to contact. She must be in the Blackbird. He wasn't sure if the others had the necessary psychic abilities to hear him, not with the way his head hurt. He waited for a few seconds and pushed out a stronger signal.

_Jean!_

There was a pause, but he could feel her mind.

_David? Now's not really the time-_

_I'm in the square below the plane right now,_ he thought, _What's happening? Can you get the systems back online?_

_It doesn't look good,_ Jean thought, _We're trying to make an emergency landing, but I don't think that we have enough power. We tried diverting the cloaking device to the engines, but that didn't work. _

David swallowed and opened his eyes. He could see the flames spurting out of the Blackbird's engines, like a falling star through the sky.

_Maybe...between you and me..._

He could almost hear Jean take a sharp breath through their connection.

_David...I'm not sure that's a good idea, _she thought

_I'm not sure that there are any better ideas._

When her next thoughts came through they sounded defeated.

_You're right. Are you ready?_ she asked.

_As ready as I can be._

David forced his eyes to open wide. He put one of his hands out. He could feel the Blackbird, feel its terrible but inevitable momentum. Kurt and Sharon were saying things, and David knew that his grip on Sharon's hand was tightening. It was becoming difficult to feel anything but the Blackbird, and he needed to stay grounded.

Objects with their own momentum, especially big objects, were difficult to control. There were forces at work that went beyond normal, theoretical physics, and David had never been very good with physics. Just feeling the Blackbird was difficult enough.

_Death to the freaks!_

The voices felt clear, vicious and cutting. Each time they spoke it was like hearing them for the first time, the hatred so pure. David could feel his hold slipping. He tried desperately to regain his grip, to stop a force that seemed determined to bowl him over.

He felt another connection, something strengthening his hold. David felt the momentum lessening on the Blackbird, and he concentrated. Jean was helping him, lending her strength to his. It burned through their connection, a slow burn that was giving an iron to their work. The voices fell silent as David concentrated.

As he watched the Blackbird had stopped falling through the sky, although he could feel it resisting him. Natural forces were trying to have their way with the machine, stubbornly refusing to give any ground.

David took another breath. Warm blood dripped from his nose and his knees felt weak. Even his grip on Sharon's hand was loosening. It was only him and the Blackbird as it started to slow down to the momentum of a top, spinning its final rotations before it collapsed.

A stray thought occurred to him, one that he had to voice.

"Kurt," he whispered, "get everyone out of the square."

He saw a flash of black smoke, but he had to keep his eye on the Blackbird. David felt terrible, but the job was only half done. He began lowering his fingers, feeling the Blackbird move with them, inch by inch through the sky.

His knees buckled beneath them. Sharon caught him before he fell to the ground, but he could feel the Blackbird fall with them. He forced his hand out again, trying to regain control. He caught it at the last moment, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

Jean was faltering too, but he could feel her determination. His blood was on his lips, dripping onto his shirt and pants. When the Blackbird approached the square David's vision was blurry. It felt as though he were carrying the plane, every pound of weight pressing his shoulders onto the ground.

Jean was still coming through, and the Blackbird was lowering gently. He could feel her weakening on her end, as though the brilliant fire he'd felt earlier was somehow dying. David forced himself to look at the square, to see if the plane would land on anyone if he set it down.

There was no one: Kurt had done his job. David lowered his hand and set the Blackbird down. He smiled as he let his arm fall limply by his side. The pressure released and David felt lighter than he had in his life. Sound and vision began returning and David wiped some of the blood off of his face.

"David?" Sharon asked.

Kurt teleported in front of him. Amanda stood off to the side, her eyes wide and her lower lip moving wordlessly. They were all concerned, and he couldn't blame them. David forced himself to speak, to tell him that things were alright.

"'m fine," he mumbled.

"You are most definitely not fine," Sharon snapped.

David jerked his head towards the Blackbird.

"Kurt," he asked.

His brother nodded, understanding. Kurt looked over at Amanda, who still looked uncertain. His brother touched her cheek for a moment before teleporting up to the door of the Blackbird. David watched him try to get the door open as Sharon helped him up.

David got to his feet when Scott came out, helping Jean. Ororo was right behind them, followed by a man David had never seen. Scott looked at Kurt strangely before moving over to David, his face set.

"David, Sharon, Kurt," he said, "What are you doing here?"

"They were taking me home," Sharon said.

"Via Boston?" Scott said.

"Uncle Scott, this really isn't the place," Kurt said, looking nervously at Amanda.

Scott sighed heavily.

"You're right," he said, "We need to block off the area-"

"That won't be necessary."

A woman with fur over her body walked up to them, followed by several soldiers. She gave them an amused look.

"That was quite a show you put on," she said.

She flexed her claws.

"Ready for the encore?" she asked.


	26. Chapter 26

August 18, 1992

Amanda had no idea what was going on. She couldn't believe the direction that everything had taken. One moment she had been sitting in a restaurant, getting ready to say goodbye to her boyfriend, exchanging friendly chitchat on a double date, and then they had been running for their lives.

On some level, she could have dealt with that. Bad situations cropped up all the time, like when Kurt's father had taken ill. However, having David stop a plane crash was strange, and it was made stranger still by the fact that he recognized the plane. By the time the people walked out and she realized that Kurt and David knew them, she felt disconnected.

The soldiers and the furry woman were the icing on the cake. She swallowed her own feelings of being lost. Amanda recognized that the next few minutes would likely determine whether or not she was going to live or die.

"Sorry to interrupt your flight," the woman said, "But we couldn't have you getting back to your day care center."

The red-haired woman detached herself from the man with goggles. Amanda had seen enough movies to know they were getting into attack position. David was tensing, and so was Sharon. Even Kurt looked like he was figuring out the best way to launch himself at the soldiers.

The woman moved, her eyes glinting. It was like a careful ballet.

"Rocket launchers are pretty useful," the furry woman said.

"No kidding."

The man in black and red had taken his own gun out and his eyes were narrowed at the woman. She laughed and traced one of her claws across the side of her face. David shot a look at the man with the goggles, who just shook his head.

"Don't make me rip your throat out too," the woman said.

A shot ripped through the air, hitting her in the arm. The man with the goggles glared at the man with the gun.

"She was asking for it!" he snapped.

A second later the rest of the soldiers began firing. Amanda dropped to the ground, trying to get out of the way of the bullets. She covered her head, breathing hard. A few bullets hit the plan and ricocheted onto the cobblestones.

She could feel a familiar terror inside of her, like the time she'd been little and fallen off the trapeze. She had just fallen short of grabbing her next rope. Amanda could still remember looking up at the ceiling, at the way it had fallen further and further away from her. The net had been there to catch her, but for a moment she had forgotten all about it.

A bruising grip grabbed her arms, and she saw a soldier. Amanda lashed out, putting all of her strength into it. She aimed at the soldier's throat, knowing that it would hurt. He staggered back and another one began firing wildly.

She heard something whiz past her ear. A warm trickle of liquid dripped down her neck. Amanda put a hand to her ear and realized that the bullet had skimmed her. She swallowed and pulled back, looking at the scene.

The man with the goggles, as well as the red-haired woman and another woman with white hair, were in full-out combat. Lasers came out of the eyes of the man with goggles and the red-haired woman was forcing soldiers back with some unseen force. She saw the woman with white hair roundhouse kick a soldier before a lightning bolt struck him.

The man who'd begun the shooting was fighting the furred woman. Anytime someone tried to interfere he shot them, the motion casual and uncaring. David was locked in combat, swaying on his feet as though weak. Sharon stayed close to him, white fur covering her body and looking more like a cat then Amanda had ever seen.

The chaos seemed all around her. Amanda had no experience that could prepare her for this. She was a performer, not a soldier. Her eyes sought out Kurt, wanting something to ground her, something familiar.

After a few seconds she saw him. He teleported onto one of the soldier's shoulder's, kicking them and forcing them to the ground. He twisted and kicked another one in the chest. He teleported again to avoid several bullets and reappeared behind the soldier shooting at him. A quick punch to the head brought him down.

Amanda stared. There was a strange hardness in Kurt's eyes, a clinical look that she had never seen before. He'd told her once that he was a pacifist. If so, where had he learned to fight? Where had any of them learned to fight?

Something hard hit Amanda in the back of the head. She fell to the ground as a soldier stood above her. Amanda rolled to avoid his attacks, trying to figure out where to punch, where would be vulnerable.

His hand shot out again, grabbing her arm. A second later Kurt teleported next to them. He slammed his fist into the man's face. Blood spurted out of his nose and a second kick forced him to the ground.

Kurt grabbed her hand. Without any warning he teleported to the other side of the square. His hands ran over her arms, his expression concerned.

"Are you okay?" he asked, "Amanda, are you okay?"

Feeling as though she had lost her tongue she nodded. Kurt looked at her, his expression losing any detachment. Instead it was just desperate.

"Amanda..." he began.

Something blasted the wall behind them. Amanda saw that someone had knocked the man with the goggles near them. He sent off a blast from his eyes and then turned to Kurt and Amanda, his face covered with grime and sweat.

"Kurt, we need to call your father," he said.

He tossed him a phone, which Kurt caught.

"Call him, and get back in here," the man with the goggles said, "We're outnumbered."

"She's a civilian," Kurt said.

His voice was pleading. Amanda wanted scream at him. She was a civilian? Amanda knew exactly what that meant, knew that he was saying they were in a war zone. Kurt didn't belong in a war zone. She didn't belong in a war zone.

"Then get her to call him," the man said, "But we need you."

Another soldier began shooting. The man turned a dial on his goggles and another beam of red light shot out. Kurt pulled Amanda into a hug. He teleported her into one of the side restaurants, which stood abandoned.

Kurt dialed and pressed the phone into her hands. The phone ringed softly.

"Tell my father that you're a friend of mine, and that it's a code blue," Kurt said, "Do you understand?"

Amanda nodded. Kurt touched her cheek.

"I'm sorry," he said.

Without another word of explanation Kurt teleported away. Amanda knelt down onto the ground, the sounds of the fight in the square filling the air. Her fingers gripped the phone tighter as it continued to ring.

* * *

"Charles, you should go to bed," Moira said.

Charles smiled. He finished signing another class swap sheet, allowing a student to transfer from French to Spanish.

"It's hardly what you would call late," he said.

"No," Moira said, "but I know that you haven't been sleeping too well lately."

Charles sighed. It was true. With everything that had been going on he'd found it difficult to sleep. Moira put her hands on his shoulder and looked down at him.

"Everyone had a breaking point," she said, "Even you."

"So you've been trying to tell me," he said.

"For several years," Moira said, "And yet, here we still are."

She kissed his forehead, her hair brushing against his cheeks. It felt soft and sweet. He put one of his hands up and briefly touched her mind. By this point Moira was used to it, and her mind felt as welcome in the mental realm as her presence did in the physical one.

He let her feel the warmth of his thoughts. She sighed against his skin. She was used to him being in her head, always managing to convey what he was feeling but always insisting on keeping her privacy. It wasn't easy, but it was worth it for moments like these.

She sighed again before he withdrew. Moira took her lips off his forehead. She slid down into the seat next to him and looked over at the forms, one of her hands resting on his.

"So, what do we have?" she asked.

"Just the usual," Charles said, "Class changes and such."

"It can wait until tomorrow," Moira said.

She tucked some of her graying hair behind her ear.

"It'll teach them for not choosing their classes with a bit more care."

Charles laughed and Moira squeezed his hand. He rubbed his temples.

"I suppose that I could stop a little early," he said.

He pulled out another form.

"Just one more," he said.

Moira laughed and leaned her head back. Charles picked up his pen and quickly reviewed the request. It was straightforward enough, and Charles had just finished signing it when his phone rang.

His wife groaned and Charles picked it up.

"Hello?" he asked.

There was a crash in the background. Charles frowned.

"Hello?" he asked again.

"Hi," someone said.

The voice was feminine, but it was also reedy and nervous. He straightened, his eyes meeting Moira's.

"You don't um, know me, but I'm a friend of Kurt's and...um...this guy who shoots lasers out of his eyes gave me this phone," the voice said, "And Kurt told me to talk to you and..."

Charles felt his spine stiffen with shock and horror. Kurt couldn't be in Boston. They were dropping Sharon off in Washington. They weren't going anywhere near there. If he'd thought that they would be going there he wouldn't have let them go.

"Kurt said this was a code blue?" she said.

Charles's eyes widened. He pushed away from his desk and pressed the alarm button. Moira looked at him in surprise as the alarm began blaring.

"What's your name?" Charles asked.

"Amanda," the girl said.

"Amanda, did he give you any other details?" Charles asked.

"No, he..."

Her voice trailed off.

"Kurt!" she screamed.

There was the sound of a muffled explosion, and the phone went dead. Charles could feel the ice in his heart, the fear seeping into him. What had happened to his son? Was David with him? Had Amanda just called out in surprise, or was something far worse happening?

"Charles?" Moira said.

Her hand touched his arm. All around him he could hear the alarm going off, accompanied by the sound of running feet. The students knew their evacuation points. They'd had drills, and he knew that the older students would guide the younger ones.

His wife continued to look at him, her face confused and her eyes worried. He swallowed and put down the phone. He could think about his fears later. His sons were in Boston and, though the thought pained him, he couldn't help them now.

"Moira, we have to get everyone out of here," Charles said, "Kurt just sent me a code blue."

Moira's eyes widened at the mention of the color. She'd been the one to help design the color designations decades ago, back when they thought that an actual code blue was an impossibility. It had been before Erik had sent someone into the Institute to poison him.

"Okay Charles," Moira said, "Okay."

She got up. Charles began wheeling himself so he could be next to her. She paused as he moved around his desk.

"Do you hear that?" Moira asked.

He shook his head. Moira jumped forward, shoving herself and his wheelchair to the ground. He hit his head hard, the room spinning. The windows shattered above their heads, the separate pieces of glass flying everywhere. It appeared that, despite Kurt's warning, it was already too late.


	27. Chapter 27

August 18, 1992

Kurt felt at a loss. He had no idea what was going on, although it was apparent that Scott and the rest of the X-men did. All he knew was that people were shooting at him, and he'd been taught to fight back when that happened.

He looked back at the small cafe where he'd hidden Amanda. It was some distance away, an island of calm in a sea of fighting. A sickening feeling stole over him. Only a few hours ago he'd made the decision not to tell the woman he loved about his strange legacy. Now she was finding out about it anyway. She'd looked at him with such confusion, almost as though she didn't know him.

Kurt didn't like thinking about that. He would have to go back later, explain to her what was happening. Kurt might even have some answers for the questions that must be tumbling through her head. He hoped that she would listen, even though she had almost been shot a few times.

He teleported next to his brother. David had dried blood on his face from where his nose had bled. There was a cut on his forehead, and his shirt was torn. He looked weak, but he was still fighting. Kurt noticed that he refrained from using his powers though.

Next to David Sharon swiped at a soldier with her claws. She looked like she was getting tired. It was unlikely that her father had taught her how to defend herself for long periods of time. Sharon had never intended to be an X-man. She hadn't even trained as one to support a sibling like Kurt had done.

Kurt saw Scott at the far edge of the square. His hand was permanently by his goggles and he was moving fast. Kurt felt a small flicker of anger: of all the places on earth the X-men had to fight, they had to fight in Boston.

A few more soldiers flooded the area. Kurt looked around, trying to get a feel for the territory. There were a lot of them, and he couldn't help but wonder where they were all coming from. He was ready to teleport to a group of likely looking soldiers when the ground began to shake.

Kurt wondered if another plane was crashing. It was the only thing that he could think of. However, an explosion from the other side of the square drew his attention. A woman whose face he'd seen in a dossier years earlier stood by a brooding looking man with a long coat. His face had been in the dossier too: Boom-Boom and Avalanche.

Avalanche stomped the ground and the earth shook, harder this time. David began to fall. Kurt caught him at the last moment. Ororo looked over at the two Brotherhood members and narrowed her eyes.

"Really?" she said, "You think now's the time?"

Boom-Boom shook her head. Two soldiers hurried over and she threw what looked like disks of light at them. Two explosions later the soldiers fell to the ground.

"We're here to help," she said.

"Of course you are," Ororo said.

David looked over at the two of them and got to his feet. He seemed confused for a moment, almost as though he was searching for something. From the other side of the square there was a commotion. Soldiers went flying, accompanied by snapping sounds.

Kurt craned his neck to get a better look. He saw a flash of blue and red before David grabbed Kurt's arm.

"Kurt, where's Amanda?" he asked.

His voice was low and urgent.

"I put her somewhere safe," Kurt said, "She's calling dad."

"Perfect," David said, "You need to make sure that the call went through."

A soldier shot at them. Kurt teleported David to the side. He used his tail to trip the soldier. David put his hand out and sent him flying into a wall.

"I'm not sure if that's the biggest priority right now," Kurt said.

"I disagree," David said, "Dad doesn't even know that there's Brotherhood here now. They seem to want to work with us, but when was the last time the X-men actually worked with the Brotherhood?"

"Not since Aunt Lorna joined us," Kurt said.

"Which was nearly twenty years ago," David said, "Kurt, you're the one who can get around fastest. Tell dad."

Kurt nodded and teleported away. A moment later he was standing by Amanda. She was holding the phone to her head, looking as though she would rather be anywhere else. Kurt felt his heart ache again.

"Amanda..." he said.

Amanda turned and looked at him. Her eyes widened.

"Kurt!" she screamed.

Kurt turned around in time to see a solider leveling a grenade launcher at them. Kurt grabbed Amanda's hand and teleported away. He saw that she dropped the phone at the sudden motion, but it didn't matter. He needed to get her out of the danger zone. He was the one who had put her there after all.

* * *

Max woke up at the sound of the sirens. On his first day at the Institute he'd been told what to do in the event of an emergency. He'd gone to bed early, so he glanced at the clock beside his bed. His heart sank. It was far too late for a drill.

He grabbed his coat and threw on his shoes. Max stumbled out into the hall. He thought of his mother, Luna, and Angel in the guest rooms upstairs. He wanted to go to them and make sure that everything was alright.

An explosion shook the hall. At first he thought that one of the students had lost control of their powers due to a nightmare. It had happened before. However, the sirens were still blaring. Something big was going on. He thought of the Brotherhood, how they had attacked only weeks ago. Magneto had just escaped from prison. It might be him.

He began pushing through students to get to the stairs. His panic was increasing, but he tried to push it down. His father had always taught him that panicking in a crisis situation was the worst thing that he could possibly do. If he was panicking then he wouldn't be helping his family.

Halfway there he saw Rogue and Bobby come up from one of the side hallways. John was behind them, his eyes drinking in every detail. Rogue looked scared, and Max didn't blame her. Beyond the sirens, he could see how she held herself. She was tense and nervous. She'd left all of her gloves and protective clothing behind when she slept. At the moment, if someone just brushed up against her shoulder they'd be vulnerable. Max was just glad that he preferred pajamas with long sleeves and pant legs.

"Max!" she said.

Max pushed his way up to them.

"You guys have to get out," he said, "Go down that way. You went over the evacuation drills, right?"

"What about ya?" Rogue asked.

"I'm going to go find my family," Max said, "They should be coming down soon."

"That's pretty stupid," John said, "You can't just run back towards danger."

"I'm not leaving without them," Max said.

Bobby stepped forward, his eyes darting around.

"Listen, they might already be out," Bobby said, "Looking for them is pretty counter-productive-"

"It just went off!" Max said, "I should be able to catch them going down."

"But-" Rogue began.

"I'm not arguing about this," Max said, "I'll see you guys at the evacuation point."

He shoved past them and began moving up the stairs. Another explosion rocked the halls. Max had to struggle to stay on his feet. He pulled himself up the stairs.

"Max!" Rogue shouted.

Down below he could hear a fire fight. His heart began thudding even more painfully. He was nearly at the top of the stairs when he saw his mother coming down, followed closely by Angel and Luna.

"Max!" his mother said.

She rushed forwards and hugged him tightly. Max hugged her back. He saw that Angel was holding Luna's hand. Luna looked terrified. The sounds of gunfire continued to filter up through the floorboards. Max looked down at the floor.

"Come on," his mother said, "We need to get you out of here."

"Got it," Max said.

His mother gripped his shoulder and pushed him forwards. He was surprised that, at the bottom of the staircase, Rogue and Bobby were still there. Rogue was making a motion to the stairs and looked like she was going to go up them. She stopped when she saw Max and his family.

"Hey Rogue," he said.

"Good, they're here," Bobby said, "We need to go."

Max stared at Rogue. She'd been planning on going up after him. He wanted to say something, but his mother was already pushing him forwards. Most of the students were already gone, although he could hear the sounds of running feet from below them.

Several soldiers came up the stairs. His mother put her hand out and threw them into the wall. One of them moved around his flying comrades and continued up the steps. His mother moved forwards and punched him in the face. She followed it up with a quick punch to his throat and then a kick to his feet.

His mother got back up to her feet. She took a deep breath and looked at Max and the others.

"Keep going to the evacuation point," she said, "I'll see you all there in a bit."

"What?" Max said, "Mom-"

"It's been a few years, but I was raised as a soldier Max," she said, "You don't forget some things."

She gave a small smile and her eyes met Angel's.

"Make sure they get out," she said.

"Of course," Angel said.

The sound of more soldiers coming up the stairs filled his ears. His mother put her hands on the stair's railings and jumped over it. Max saw her for a moment, a determined face and a flash of green hair, before she finished her descent.

"Mom!" Luna wailed.

"It's okay," Angel said.

She pulled Luna forward. Max felt numb. He wrapped his sleeve around his hand before gripping his sister's hand though. He wasn't going to lose it. He was a Summers, and Summers didn't lose their heads at the first sign of a crisis.

"What about Logan and Remy?" Rogue said.

"From what I've heard about Logan, he can take care of himself," Angel said, "And Remy's an X-men. They'll be fine."

Rogue stared at the stairs, looking torn. Max realized what she wanted to do. He couldn't condemn her. Not after what he'd done.

"Aunt Angel, can you take Luna out of here?" he asked.

Angel looked at him, her eyes livid.

"Maximilian Bryan Summers, don't you dare," she snapped, "Your mother wants me to get you to safety, and I'm going to get you to safety. I'm not going to let you go exploring for people who are fine."

"Aunt Angel-" Max started.

"Max, don't go!" Luna said.

His sister grabbed his pant leg. Max bit his lip. He felt himself turn to Rogue, feeling torn. He wanted to tell her that he would go anyway, but he didn't know if he could. His family was demanding that he go with them.

The decision was made for him. Rogue took off down the hallway. Max disentangled Luna's hand and chased after her. He could hear Bobby arguing with Angel, could hear his aunt and his little sister calling him back. He wasn't going to let Rogue head into danger by herself though. She was family too after all.


	28. Chapter 28

August 18, 1992

"Incoming!"

Mystique ducked. She moved behind the soldier's arm and got behind him. With a quick motion she snapped his neck. She flipped to avoid several more bullets before kicking guns out of the soldiers hands.

She couldn't believe that she was in this situation. She'd thought, when Magneto had first said that they were going to aid Charles's pets, that she would be going to Westchester with him. That was where the real threat was.

Instead he'd left her to handle Lance and Boom-Boom like a second-rate babysitter. She hit another soldier in the throat before kicking him there, effectively collapsing his windpipe.

By all rights they shouldn't even be here. Mystique was all for helping out Westchester against a threat like this. She couldn't care less about whether or not the X-men received their aid and she disliked the idea about dividing their forces.

Emma hadn't liked it either, but she had liked that she had been picked by Magneto to accompany him the school. Mystique kicked another soldier away, getting angrier the more she thought about it. Mystique knew the mansion much better than Emma. If anyone, she should be going as a guide.

She took her frustration out on the soldiers in front of her. Mystique had hoped to find a time to talk to the X-men, explain why she and the others were there. Time was short though, and she needed to figure out a way to tell Alex's oaf of a brother what was happening.

She managed to slide towards him, making her movements as small as possible. She didn't want to alarm him and think that she was coming to attack him. In her experience members of the Summers family tended to shoot first and ask questions later.

Mystique was halfway to him when someone stepped into her path. For a moment she started, thinking that she was looking into the past. Her brother stared at her, blood coating his face, his eyes for the first time cold and condemning.

It took a few seconds before she realized that, no, she hadn't gone back into the past. This wasn't Charles. His build was too big for that time in Charles's life, and his hair wasn't the straight brown of her brother. It was almost auburn.

She put her hands on her hips, realizing who this was.

"David," she said.

David jutted his chin up.

"What the hell are you all doing here?" he asked.

His voice was venomous, not the cultured tone that she had been expecting. Mystique folded her arms.

"Magneto got wind that something was going to happen to all of you," she said, "Despite what you might think, we don't value the shedding of mutant blood."

She gestured around the square.

"It appears our intelligence was right," she said.

A soldier shot at David. David dodged and flung his hand out, sending the soldier flying. He winced.

"I don't believe that," David said.

His voice was angry, suspicious. Mystique sneered. This was her brother's son? It appeared that, despite his own preaching, he couldn't even get his own son to believe in peaceful solutions.

"Oh, really?" Mystique said.

"Really," David said.

A woman stepped next to David. Her hair was white, but flecks of blood had gotten into it. She recognized Sharon much easier than she had David. Hank was constantly on the news, his loving family ever present.

"Two of my people are fighting to help you right now," Mystique said, "I suggest you calm down a bit."

David's eyes narrowed and Sharon looked at her suspiciously. After a moment David's eyes relaxed and Mystique wondered if he'd read her mind. Her own eyes narrowed and David grinned.

"No, don't worry," he said, "I do have some moral decency. I just know how to read people's faces."

A soldier came up from behind him. Sharon slashed at him with her claws, and David kicked him in the stomach. He glanced back at Mystique.

"I'm more than my mutation," he said.

Mystique wanted to snarl at him. Maybe he was her brother's son: he was far too preachy. Instead she turned away from him and engaged another few soldiers. The crowd was thinning out now, and she was grudgingly grateful.

An explosion on the other side of the square shook the ground. It definitely wasn't one of Boom-Boom's. She saw smoke rising from one of the buildings and began running over. She saw David and Sharon try to get there, only to be stopped by some more soldiers.

Mystique slid through them, almost laughing. It appeared that David wasn't too versed in combat. She could see it now, her soft-hearted brother insisting that his son be kept from fighting. It left him quite useless at the moment, and she hoped that Charles was proud of that.

A soldier leveled what looked like a grenade launcher at her. Sinister really hadn't been keeping idle in prison. She was about to move out of the way when a cloud of black smoke appeared next to him.

Time slowed down. She watched as the young man disabled the soldier, hitting him before tripping him with his tail. Another soldier moved towards them, and he teleported behind them so he could push their head up against a wall.

He was too much like his father. Mystique had thought that ever since he'd been born. Her son had looked too much like his father. She remembered thinking that as she wrapped him up in a blanket and crept towards her brother's house, hating herself for her doubts, hating herself for her cowardice, and hating herself for what she was about to do.

Kurt turned and looked at her, his eyes blinking in surprise. Mystique wanted to say something to him, to shrug off the encounter as natural, just a cordial meeting between enemies. That had been what she'd decided when she'd laid him at his brother's doorstep. They were going to be enemies from now on.

Emotions and memories came flooding back. She remembered hiding her morning sickness, too afraid and doubtful to talk to any member of the Brotherhood. They were all against her really. All of them had sided with Lorna the minute she'd come into their lives and cast Mystique aside. So what if Lorna had just experienced a tragedy? They all had. They all simpered over her like she was something special, even Azazel.

He'd wanted children so badly, so badly that he didn't even dare to tell Mystique about it. She'd seen the way that he'd fawned over Lorna though, and she'd known that they could do better. If he wanted children then he didn't have to pretend as though Lorna was his, just like so many other members of the Brotherhood did.

Lorna was just an excuse in the end. They'd all thought that they were doing such a wonderful job, raising up the next generation of the Brotherhood. She'd seen though, known what it would mean to raise her son in the Brotherhood.

Even Magneto had been blind to what that would do to a child. The only reason it had worked with Lorna was because she'd been sheltered, a perfect little princess in Magneto's kingdom. And where had she ended up when all was said and done? She'd ended up in Alex's arms as his new lieutenant, an X-man.

There were other reasons, of course there were. She'd repeated them in her head a million times when she left Kurt at her childhood home. Mystique had almost taken him back into her arms. She'd had to stop herself. Mystique had rung the doorbell and then run away as fast as she could. The mental image of Moira, or worse Alex, picking her son up and taking him inside was too much for her to bear.

Now he was standing a few feet in front of her. Her eyes greedily drank up the details. He was wearing nice clothes, or at least clothes that had been nice before the explosions. His three fingers were calloused. Did he like crafting things? Painting, writing? The chilling thought that he might fight with swords made her shiver.

His golden eyes met hers and she saw him tense. Mystique wanted to tell him not to be afraid, not to think that she was going to hurt him. Her voice stuck in her throat though, and for the first time in years she became scared, scared of what a young man's presence meant.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw a furred woman crash into the wall next to him. Kurt teleported away in time to avoid slamming into her. Mystique shook her head, feeling her thoughts clear.

They were in a war zone. She couldn't afford to think about things that she had locked away so long ago. It wasn't important anymore, and the time for regrets and what-ifs was long, long past.

* * *

Rogue knew that she was being stupid. Logan and Remy really were more than capable of taking care of themselves. She'd seen Logan in a fight, seen him demolish his opponents and heal from any injury. Remy was an X-man, and she knew that meant that he could fight.

So why was she running down the hall, putting her own life at risk? In some ways she could understand why she was doing it for Logan. He was a friend, he took care of her, he was family. They were all good reasons.

There weren't any real good reasons for Remy. They were friends, of course they were, but they barely knew each other. It wasn't the type of friendship that you would run through a building under siege for.

At least, she'd thought that it wasn't. Every footstep was telling her that it was. She'd seen that Max had peeled off and was following her. Rogue wanted to cry. She was being stupid, making all of the wrong choices, and now she'd dragged Max along with her.

He drew level with her, his eyes dead set on the course ahead of them. The sounds of combat filtered upwards, and she thought about the way that Max's mother had launched herself down the staircase. She said that she'd been a soldier, and the words filled Rogue with a strange fear. They couldn't be soldiers. They couldn't be at war.

A body slammed into the wall ahead of her. Remy followed it, someone pushing him back. He hit them with something that looked like a staff, she wasn't sure what it was, and sent them to the ground.

He looked up at them, his red and black eyes meeting hers. She saw confusion, panic, and anger there.

"Da exit's dat way!" Remy shouted, pointing the opposite direction.

"Ah...ah..." Rogue said.

She swallowed, unsure of what to say. She'd known that her reasons were stupid for trying to find him, but she could see that telling him that wasn't going to help. A second later she heard meat hitting metal as Logan came around the corner. His eyes widened in surprise as well.

"What the hell...? You two need to get out of here!" he shouted.

"What's going on?" Rogue asked.

It was the only thing she could say that didn't sound like some sort of confession. Logan shook his head.

"Kid, I'm not sure myself," he said.

"Ya need ta get outta here!" Remy shouted.

Max gave her a look, almost as though he was telling her that it was okay now, that she had seen them. Rogue looked at Remy and Logan for a moment longer, wishing that they would understand.

They continued staring at her, and Rogue realized that they might never understand. She turned around, Max beside her, when a group of soldiers came up from the other end of the hallway, cutting off their exit.


	29. Chapter 29

August 18, 1992

Max watched as the soldiers opened fire. He reached out with his hand, his fingers splayed. The bullets seemed to move in slow motion. He could hear his mother's voice talking to him, her words gentle.

"It's just a part of you Max, all that metal. If you just concentrate, then you can control it."

The bullets stopped in mid-air. Max felt sweat roll from his forehead along his jaw line. Time continued, and he could feel the tension in his body. He could see the soldiers stare at him, almost as though they hadn't expected that.

Remy threw four cards at them, each one glowing magenta. Max wrapped his coat around his hand and shoved Rogue to the floor. The two of them went down as the screams of the soldiers filled the air.

A hand grabbed him and hauled him to his feet. He looked up into Logan's face. Max didn't know what to make of the expression that he saw on his face, the way his eyes kept flicking over Max's features. It felt like he was seeing him anew somehow.

Logan dropped him onto his feet. Next to them Remy had finished helping Rogue up. He had wrapped his hands in his coat too, and Rogue was bleeding from her lip. Max wanted to apologize. He hadn't meant to push her so hard.

"Kid, move it!" Logan snapped.

He pushed him down the hallway, towards the staircase. Remy and Rogue were behind them. A soldier came out of a doorway. Logan casually flicked his hand out, his claws drawn. Max closed his eyes, hearing the thump on the floor in a distant, disconnected way.

He opened his eyes, forcing himself not to think about what he had heard, what had happened to all of those soldiers. They had come into the Institute to kill them: they deserved it. Max tried to tell himself that, although it wasn't working.

They moved down another staircase. He heard other sounds of combat, almost as though they were from further off. Max thought of his mother, and his heart pounded even harder. Where was she? Had aid come to her? The other X-men were gone. Where were they when they needed them?

Another group of soldiers rounded the corner. Max saw them take aim. The guns flew out of their hands and hit the wall. They began scrabbling at their helmets as they crunched in, the noise of the crunching almost overpowering the sound of their screams.

Rogue looked at him with horror. He saw Logan and Remy look at him the same way, as though he was some kind of monster.

"It...it wasn't...I...I didn't..." he managed.

His words came out low and strangled. Logan took another look at him and nodded.

"Alright," he said, "Then who-?"

"You're not very bright, are you?"

Max felt something inside him freeze. He knew that voice. He'd seen it in security camera footage, in the few video files the X-men had been able to gather on the Brotherhood. He turned, feeling the world slow for the second time.

Magneto stood at the other end of the hall, his hand extended casually. Toad stood behind him, along with Emma Frost.

"It appears you have an infestation," Magneto said, "I believe that I can help with that."

Logan snarled. Magneto waved a hand.

"I would hope that even you could see that this is beyond whatever it is you're feeling," he said, "Our foe is far greater than that."

"What are ya talkin about?" Remy snapped.

Magneto waved a hand around them.

"This is hardly my style," he said, "I wouldn't attack the Institute. Not like this."

"Not like this being the key phrase there bub," Logan said.

Magneto shook his head.

"I have information that we may be dealing with something much worse than this," he said.

Max looked at Rogue. His throat felt thick. How could it be worse than what was happening now.

"But, I digress," he said, "We need to leave this place. More soldiers are coming."

"We can't just be leavin," Remy said, "Dere be students here-"

"Most of them have run into the woods," Magneto said, "And those that are still here are most likely far too scattered for you to rescue without hurting yourselves. You all need to leave now."

Logan and Remy looked at each other, some sort of silent communication passing between them. They didn't know each other very well, but they were both X-men. That meant something, and he knew they were debating on whether or not to believe Magneto.

Max saw it the moment they made their decision.

"Wait!" he said.

They both looked at him.

"My mother," he said, "She...she's still fighting downstairs. We can't just leave her without any support."

"Kid..." Logan said.

"We can't just going to abandon her!" Max said.

"He's right," Rogue said, "We can't just-"

"If you want to live, then you will," Magneto said.

Max turned on him. He wasn't sure where his courage was coming from, but he wasn't going to leave his mother behind.

"Don't you dare tell me what to do!" he snapped.

Max moved past him, determined to make it to the stairs. He felt a steely grip on his arm. Max whipped around and stared Magneto in the face.

"Let me go!" he snarled.

Magneto's eyes widened. His mouth opened slightly and his grip loosened a little. Max shook him off and began to head back towards the stairs. A minute later he felt something hard hit his head. He fell to the ground, his vision swimming with black.

"Max!" Rogue yelled.

Max tried to get up, but his arms wouldn't support him. He fell to the floor again, and this time the black blotted out his vision.

* * *

Charles could hear Moira's heavy breathing, feel the way that her steps were labored. After his wheelchair had broken she'd thrown his arm over her shoulder. She had always acted as his support whenever he needed to leave the wheelchair.

Despite his own misgivings, he had insisted on waiting in his office. He had tried to sync communications to get everyone out until the communication lines had faded out. He'd heard reports of students making it to the woods. He had no idea if they were all out.

Moira had pointed out the obvious: they would only know that when they got there. Charles had to agree, although part of him wanted to stay. He didn't know how he could make sure that the rest of the students were out though.

He hadn't known how he was going to get out either. Moira had insisted on helping him along. She had never carried him this far though. The evacuation tunnels were still some ways away, and after that it would be difficult to get out of there. Charles could see the strain that it was putting her under. She was older than she had been when she had first helped him with his mobility problems.

He could only feel dismayed at the situation. She was slowing herself down to save him. The soldiers hadn't caught up to them yet, but he knew that they would get there soon. He gripped her shoulder tighter.

"Moira, please, just leave me behind-" he tried.

"Shut up," Moira snapped.

Charles wanted to force her to leave him behind. It was her only chance of getting out safely. He closed his eyes, getting ready to enter her mind.

"Charles, please."

He opened his eyes. Moira was looking at him, her face determined and desperate. It wasn't a look that he ever liked to see on her face.

"Don't make me do this," she said, "We get out together, or we don't get out at all."

"Moira..." he said.

"Charles," Moira said.

He sighed and bowed his head in resignation. Moira shifted his weight and continued moving. He didn't look up again until he felt the presence of several minds coming up the stairs. He put his hand to his forehead and concentrated.

They dropped to the ground. It drained him somewhat, but they were gone. Moira reached the other end of the hall and began keying in the appropriate code for the panic tunnel.

A fist slammed into the wall, denting it. Wood splintered in the air, and Moira was forced onto the ground. Charles hit the floor hard and pushed himself up, looking at the massive figure in front of him. He hadn't even felt his mind.

"So, the great Charles Xavier. A cripple."

The voice was commanding and deep. Charles looked up at the man, pushing himself into something resembling a seated position.

"You and your people have attacked my school," he said, "There are children here-"

"They won't be harmed. Not as long as they cooperate."

"Something tells me that they won't do that," Moira snapped.

The man made a dismissive gesture with his hand.

"Quiet human."

Moira's eyes narrowed. The man gave a deep-throated chuckle.

"You're in the middle of a conversation between gods," the man said, "It's not your place to interrupt."

"People have been telling me that for a while," Moira said.

The man made another dismissive gesture.

"Xavier," he said, "I have heard that you are an intelligent man with great power. I have yet to see any of this though. All I see is a service for children set up in the middle of nowhere, a place to hide yourself away."

Moira's eyes met Charles's.

_Don't_, Charles thought.

Moira took a deep breath.

_Charles, this man is insane_, she thought.

_Which makes this situation very, very dangerous_, Charles thought.

"I wonder," the man said, "What makes you so special? Why was data gathered on you?"

Charles swallowed and tried to get inside the man's mind. It felt as though there were a fence made of barbed wire around it. It was almost as though it were trying to attack him back. He slowly tried to untangle the man's mental barriers.

"Why should I be here?"

A small thread looked as though he could unravel it.

"You're not even fighting me."

Charles could feel the different threads untangling. It was painful, but he tried to keep his face carefully schooled. He couldn't let this man know what he was doing.

"Perhaps it's time for a test. This is a school."

With one motion he reached down and grabbed Moira by the throat.

"Moira!" Charles said.

Moira made a small, strangled noise as the man lifted her into the air. Charles doubled his efforts, frantically trying to tear the man's shields apart. Moira kicked out, but her feet bounced off the man's chest harmlessly. He seemed amused.

"Gods can sometimes become taken with mortals," he said, "For their beauty or something similar."

He turned Moira's head to the side. Charles could feel the rage pounding inside him: no one hurt his wife, no one threatened to take her from him. It gave him strength as he continued to work on the man's mind.

"Sometimes it even lasts," the man said, "It's a foolish process, but it happens often enough. I wouldn't expect the offspring of such a union to be anything particularly special."

Charles yanked the threads loose. He dove into the man's mind, ripping and tearing. He saw the man stumble, toss Moira to the ground, but he kept his vision concentrated within his mind. Charles could just about feel the place beyond his thoughts, the place where he could bring him down.

As he reached it Charles felt a burning sensation inside his mind. Information flowed through him, almost as though someone was stabbing him repeatedly in his head. He continued fighting, pushing past it, but the pain only increased.

He tasted blood from his nose on his lips, felt it running down his neck from his ears.

"Charles!" Moira screamed.

The man laughed.

"You're the first one to do that," he said, "I'm impressed. Congratulations on making it that far."

Moira tried to run to him, but the man pulled her back by her hair. He tossed her aside into the wall. Charles watched, his vision blurred, as she slumped to the ground.

"I believe that's the end of that test," the man said.


	30. Chapter 30

August 18, 1992

Erik watched as the boy fell to the ground. He could feel something strange fill him. He remembered the look in the boy's eyes, the sheer determination in his voice, undaunted as he demanded that he be let go.

There had only ever been one person who had asked that, but it hadn't been a demand. It had been a gentle plea murmured to him as he stood with the power to crush her. The words had brought back a memory, and for a moment his grip had loosened.

The boy had run, and Erik had looked after him. Emma had inclined her head to Erik, and he had nodded. They couldn't allow more mutant blood to be shed. The boy was silly and misguided, but he was just a boy. Emma turned her fist to diamond and hit him on the head, sending him to the ground.

"Max!" Rogue yelled.

Erik felt himself turn cold. He knew that name, a name that he had quietly filed away in his memory and tried to forget. His eyes looked at the boy, who was now lying on the floor. No, that couldn't be Max. That many years couldn't have passed.

He remembered seeing Alex on the other side of the field. Erik had been ready to leave the site of his latest battle. Alex had called after him and Erik had turned, expecting him to spout some empty platitudes.

Instead, what he'd heard had shaken him.

"Lorna just had a son," Alex had said, "We've named him Maximilian. Max for short."

There was a slight pause. Erik had tried to muster some response, but all he'd felt was anger and a deep, deep sense of loss. He turned away from Alex without saying anything. He would do the same to Scott years later when Scott told him about Luna.

Had that been fifteen years ago? Erik couldn't believe that it had. The proof was lying on the floor though, knocked unconscious. The boy, in all of his foolish, stubborn bravery, was his grandson.

Another thought, even worse than the last one, came over him. He'd said that his mother was downstairs fighting. Erik tried to fight that thought too. Lorna was in Alaska. She was doing some sort of lobbying activity there, something to help disadvantaged mutants. She wasn't an X-man anymore. It was the closest thing to good news about her that he had received in quite a while.

However, that's what Max had said. Erik wanted to go down, to see what was happening. He wanted to give her a chance to come with them. There might be time to get them all out. It wasn't as though the building had collapsed.

Another thought told him that he shouldn't care. He had already deemed it too dangerous to try and go back for Charles. Wherever he was, if he hadn't already gotten out, he was beyond Erik's help.

Besides, he didn't owe Lorna anything. Lorna wasn't his daughter, and Max wasn't his grandson. He had cast her out, her betrayal too much for anyone to bear. She had turned her back on her family, on everything she had been taught and believed, to join his enemies. She'd fought them, had children with the X-men's field commander. Lorna was no longer his daughter.

"The hell!" Logan snarled.

Erik put his hand out to stop Logan from charging him. Toad was looking at Erik with wide eyes. Despite what people seemed to think, Toad wasn't stupid. He was a little slower than others, but he wasn't stupid. He knew who the boy was, who the mother that he was so desperate to rejoin was.

Emma got up and looked at him, her face hard. She must have figured it out as well. Her expression was one of vague annoyance, almost as though she was impatiently awaiting his orders. He wasn't sure that he had any.

"He better be alrigh," Gambit said.

"Don't be such an idiot," Emma snorted, "I just knocked him out. He was going to get himself killed."

She looked up at Erik.

"Anyone who goes down there is going to get killed," she said.

Erik dropped Logan.

"Perhaps," he said.

He glanced back at the small group at the other end of the hall.

"We need to find the professor," Logan said.

"Charles is lost to us if he isn't already gone," Erik said, "How do you suggest we transport a wheelchair through all this?"

He jerked his head towards Max.

"Nonetheless, Emma, you and Toad leave with Gambit, Rogue, and...Max," he said.

Emma's mouth opened.

"You can't seriously be going down there!" she snapped.

"The boy's mother is Polaris, correct?" he asked.

The name felt like bile. Lorna had been Magnetrix once. Rogue hesitated, but Gambit gave a sharp nod.

"Then she might be useful," Erik said.

"Magneto-" Emma said.

"Just get movin, okay?" Toad snapped.

Emma glared at Toad, but she hoisted Max up. Gambit took his coat off and put it around Rogue's shoulders.

"Don't be touchin any o Max's skin now," Gambit said.

"Why not?" Emma asked.

"Cause it's dangerous," he said.

He began pushing Rogue forward. Rogue looked at Logan, but Logan just nodded. Erik began walking down the stairs, Logan following him. He knew that Logan was giving him an odd look.

"Why the sudden change of heart Mags?" he asked.

"As I said, Polaris might be an asset," Erik said, "She's been an X-man for a long time. We will need people like her."

Logan snorted.

"There's a lot more to this than that," he said.

"Well, if there was, then, now would certainly not be the time or place to discuss it," Erik snapped.

Logan didn't say anything. Erik hoped that he had effectively silenced him for the time being. He didn't want to bother with him while his own emotions were so conflicted. How could he be doing this after what his daughter had done to him? They needed to get out, not run further into danger.

At the bottom of the stairs they ran into a detachment of soldiers. Erik flicked his wrist and several went flying into the wall. He could hear Logan's claws coming out of his hands, slicing into several more.

There were more sounds of combat. He saw that Logan was keeping most of the soldiers occupied. That gave him a slender window of opportunity to act. Erik pressed on, cursing himself, cursing his weakness. He remembered how he had felt for the first few days after Lorna had left. It had been pure anger, a sheer inability to feel anything towards her except the hate that she had left him with. He'd been strong then.

Then the anger had begun to dissipate. When he was sure that no one was awake or gone, he had broken down. Erik had still been angry, but he had felt the overwhelming sadness as well. Lorna had been his daughter.

She had been the last and greatest gift that Susanna had given him. In their entire relationship Susanna had asked exactly one thing of him: to take care of Lorna. He'd failed at that. He had nightmares about Susanna asking him why he had let her go, why he had shoved her away.

Erik rounded a corner. He saw Lorna standing amidst a group of soldiers. Her green hair was frazzled and soaked in sweat. More sweat dripped down her face, mingling with blood, both dried and fresh. Her shirtsleeve was torn and her step faltered.

It was the first time that he had seen her in almost twenty years. He had no words, nothing to say. Lorna landed a solid punch on the last solider in front of her. She pushed her sweaty hair out of her eyes and spotted him.

Their eyes met. Although she had aged, her eyes had stayed the same. They were still that same, perfect shade of green that he had first seen all those years ago. She wasn't a child anymore, she was a woman grown, a woman who had made poor decisions.

He wanted to forget that though. Erik had never seen her in her new life, not since she had married Alex. He'd always taken great care to avoid her. He'd meant what he said to Angel. He couldn't have Lorna and the Brotherhood, but seeing her again made him want to forget about the Brotherhood. She was dangerous like that.

"Father..." she whispered.

Her voice was confused, almost as though she couldn't believe that she was seeing him. Erik reached out to her. They were still too far away for the gesture to mean anything, but he couldn't help himself.

The wall next to them exploded. Erik was knocked back into the opposite wall. He saw Logan run up to him, his nostrils flaring. Erik fought to get to his feet. Lorna was struggling to get back up again as more soldiers poured in.

Where were they all coming from? The supply of soldiers seemed to be bottomless, and all of them seemed determined to find a way to destroy everything and everyone in what was supposed to be a haven.

Erik put out his hand and pushed them into the wall. He saw Lorna doing the same thing. Her eyes glittered like emeralds, her green hair a beacon in the dim light and smoke. Erik got up and he and Logan moved towards Lorna.

There was another explosion, this one greater. Erik was knocked back again. He could feel the flames begin to lick the room, could see his daughter struggling up to her feet, her eyes still determined.

"Lorna!" he shouted.

Lorna turned, just as a large shadow loomed. Erik could just make out that the owner of the shadow was three times the size of his daughter. Lorna heard him coming in time to try to push him away, obviously looking for metal on him.

There wasn't any. The man knocked her aside, pushing her into the wall. Erik rushed forward, heading towards the flames. All thoughts of how she had left fled from his mind. He wasn't going to lose Lorna like he'd lost her mother.

A hand gripped his arm. He snarled and saw that Logan was holding him back.

"There's no way around the damn flames!" he said, "Let someone with a healing factor go through!"

Erik pulled his arm back. Logan began making his way through the flames, his flesh sizzling. Erik could see that the battle was going poorly for Lorna. She was already exhausted from fighting the soldiers, and whoever this was wasn't giving her any advantage. He continued to bludgeon her.

Lorna managed to block some of his blows, and even get a few in herself. Erik could see metal objects flying, crashing into whoever this was. Lorna coughed from the smoke, and Erik could see that she was swaying though.

A burning timber fell, blocking Logan's path. He tried to push it away as the man tossed Lorna to the ground.

"Lorna!" Erik yelled again.

He moved forwards. Flames or no, he had to find a way to help her. He saw her use the wall to pull herself to her feet. Even though there was blood on her face and she was holding her ribcage, she was standing. Lorna stared defiantly at the man.

Erik could just see the man smirk.

"After everything, you insist on being on your own feet," he said, "Magnificent."

He threw another punch. Lorna tried to block it, but it sent her across the room. She slammed into the wall. Erik watched in horror as the wooden beams fell, some still on fire, burying her.

"Lorna!" he shouted.

The man turned and looked at Erik, his expression curious. Logan stopped trying to make his way through the flames, moving back towards Erik instead. Erik pushed forward. He had to help her. It couldn't be too late, it couldn't be.

Once more Logan stopped him.

"Look," Logan snapped, "I hate you and even I know this is a bad idea!"

"What do you know?" Erik said.

His eyes fixed on where he'd last seen Lorna. It couldn't happen this way. He couldn't outlive his only child. He began feeling for the adamantium in Logan's body, determined to push him away. His daughter needed him.

He felt a fist slam into his forehead. Erik slumped, black spots swimming in front of his eyes.

"Sorry bub," Logan said, "But we might need you."


	31. Chapter 31

August 18, 1992

Scott punched the last soldier in the face, dropping him. It was simple, much simpler than the rest of the fight. He felt as though hours had passed. He wiped the sweat off his brow and assessed his troops.

There was no other way to think of them. Jean and Ororo looked alright, although they were both tired. Kurt and Sharon also looked, for the most part, fine. David was a mess, but he knew that was because of his struggle with landing the Blackbird. He'd taken the brunt of that burden. Deadpool had been slashed up badly, but his healing factor was making up for it.

Once he'd figured out that they were fine he directed his attention to the Brotherhood. Mystique was blinking rapidly, most as though she were trying to figure out what to say. Lance looked smug, and Boom-Boom had her arms crossed.

"So," he said, "did you know this was going to happen?"

Mystique stopped blinking.

"Not exactly this," she said, "But we had information that some sort of attack was imminent. Magneto headed down to the Institute with Toad and Emma."

"That accounts for everyone except Senyaka," Scott said.

Mystique laughed.

"I'm not going to tell you everything just because we're working together Cyclops," she said, "That wouldn't be in our best interest, now would it?"

Scott clenched his fist. He thought of his brother. Alex had been forced to lead missions with the Brotherhood by his side on more than one occasion. Granted, a few of those had been with Lorna. Scott figured that would make things a little easier.

However, she hadn't been on all of the missions. Even when it hadn't been Alex leading the missions, Sean had somehow managed. The Brotherhood hadn't changed all that much: it was still full of the same assholes. They had both managed to avoid any real discord between their teams in the course of their team-ups.

If Sean and Alex could keep their tempers in check, then Scott could too.

"Moving past that," he said, "We need to contact the Institute."

Mystique shook her head.

"By the time you do that, it will have already gone down," she said, "Your time to warn them was quite a bit ago."

"Then why didn't you call them?" David asked.

Mystique turned her golden eyes in his direction. Scott wanted to hit David, tell him that he wasn't helping. The fact that they had received any help from the Brotherhood at all was a startling revelation.

Sirens screeched as several cop cars pulled into the plaza. Scott swore inside his head and looked at Jean. He didn't know if she would be up to sending them all away. David might be able to help, but he looked exhausted.

Deadpool pushed past Scott.

"I got this," he said.

Scott stared at him in disbelief as he waltzed up to the nearest cop car, digging around in his pockets.

"Okay...was it this suit I put it in or was it the other one?" he muttered, "Well, there was that one time I kept it in my mask for a while..."

Scott could see Mystique staring in shock as well. He felt the urge to say something, to explain to Mystique that Deadpool was just some moron that they had picked up, that he really didn't have anything to do with them.

The cop car's door opened. Just as the cop leveled his gun Deadpool pulled out a badge. The cop's eyes widened and he pulled out his walkie-talkie.

"We've got a SHIELD situation here," he said, "Everyone pull back!"

The sirens stopped but the lights stayed on. The cop stared at Deadpool uncertainly.

"Um...what do you want us to do sir?" the cop asked.

"Stand on your heads, do ten backflips, then get some banana cream pies-" Deadpool started.

"Secure the area," Scott cut in, "Make sure no civilians get in."

"Right, right," the cop said.

He shot a dazed look over his shoulder at Deadpool before leaving. Deadpool put his hand to his forehead.

"Dude, do you know how few opportunities I get to do that?" he asked.

"I don't care," Scott said, "What did you show him?"

Deadpool flipped out a badge. Scott wasn't sure what all of the different symbols meant, but he could make out the word SHIELD on top of it.

"It's a SHIELD clearance," Deadpool said, "Pinched it off Cassidy coupla months back. Been dyin to use it."

Scott thought for a moment.

"Would it show up that that clearance was used here in some sort of database?" Scott said.

"Yeah, which means we better get outta here fast," Deadpool said, "Cassidy's gonna be kinda pissy that I used this."

"He'll be pissy for a couple of other reasons," Scott said, "And you're staying here."

Deadpool blinked.

"Excuse me?" he asked.

"You're staying here, because we're going to need Sean here, and there's a good chance that my brother will come here too," Scott said, "You meeting them and explaining is what happened is the easiest way."

Deadpool was quiet for a moment.

"Terry'll be with them," he said.

"That's your problem, not mine," Scott said.

Deadpool shook his head.

"Look, you can't make me stay," he said.

"I can though," Scott said, "Because if Terry comes here, then that means she'll insist on fighting without her mutation. She's proficient in hand-to-hand combat, but these were some real nasty people. Want to leave her to take her chances without her greatest weapon?"

There was silent for another moment.

"You're a bastard," Deadpool said.

"Less so than you," Scott said, "I'm not the one who left her in the first place."

He turned away from Deadpool and approached the group. Scott tapped the side of the Blackbird.

"We're going to need to get this thing off the ground again," he said, "Marvel, think that you can fix the engine?"

"It might take a few hours," Jean said.

"Less than that," Sharon said, "There are a few different things that you can bypass if you try. It won't make it perfectly stable, but it'll get it into the air faster."

Scott raised his eyebrows. Sharon shrugged.

"I'm smart, and my dad left those blueprints lying around in his office," Sharon said, "It made for good bedtime reading."

Scott nodded. He jerked his thumb to the Blackbird.

"Have at it," he said, "And try to see if you can reestablish communications with the Institute."

Sharon and Jean moved off. Scott gave Mystique a hard look. She put her hands on her hips and Scott turned away. He wasn't going to deal with her right now. He walked over to Kurt and David. Kurt disappeared in a cloud of black smoke as he approached.

"He's going to get Amanda," David said.

"Good," Scott said.

He put a hand on David's shoulder.

"You and I need to talk," he said.

* * *

When Max woke up he saw the night sky staring at him. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked around. Rogue was sitting next to him, a small form swallowed in Remy's coat.

"Hey..." he muttered.

Rogue smiled. Next to her he saw Remy shift, giving him a weak smile. Max ignored him.

"Ya woke up," Rogue said.

"It's what I do," he said.

Max pushed himself up and winced. He looked around him and felt his heart sink. They were no longer near the Institute. He could see Toad and Emma on the fringes of the group, but he couldn't see Magneto.

He dismissed it.

"How long have I been out?" he asked.

"An hour or somethin," Remy said.

He felt his breathing slow down. Max gritted his teeth.

"Then I take it you all just left my mother?" he asked.

"Nah."

Logan walked up. He smelt like smoke and blood. Rogue gave him a worried look, her eyes flicking back down to Max. Max narrowed his eyes.

"If you didn't leave her," Max said, "then where is she?"

Logan sighed and sat down. He lit a cigar, looking tired.

"Kid, Mags an me went back down to the first floor. Figured that's where your mom was," he said, "There was...somethin was there kid. I don't know how ta...nevermind."

He exhaled, leaning back.

"Don't know how ta say this," Logan said, "but your mom was fighting and..."

Logan trailed off, looking like he was having difficulty. Max felt the wheels click in his head. He wanted to cry, but it couldn't be true.

"And?" he demanded.

He shoved himself further up. Logan wasn't answering fast enough.

"And?" Max repeated.

"The roof collapsed," Logan said, "I don't think most people coulda survived that."

Max swallowed angry tears, his hands digging into the grass.

"But you don't know," he said.

"The place was on fire," Logan said, his voice quiet, "We couldn't get to her in time to do anything. Not with that other guy there."

"But you don't know for sure," Max said, his voice desperate, "My mom would've survived that. She's strong."

"Kid, that's not how it works," Logan said.

"You don't know her!" Max said, "She was an X-man for a decade! She fought against all sorts, she turned her back on her old life, she went through so much...she's too strong to be killed by a collapsing roof!"

"Kid-"

"Stop calling me that!" Max screamed.

He pushed himself to his feet.

"You left her there," he said.

"Max," Rogue said, her words soft.

"Don't defend him!" Max snapped.

He rounded on Logan.

"How long did it take you to make that decision, to leave her behind?" Max said, "Maybe a minute longer than it took Magneto? Less?"

Logan snorted.

"I was the one who had to drag Mags away," he said, "He woulda ended up gettin himself killed and, as much as I don't like him, we might need him."

Max staggered under that information.

"He...he hates my mom," Max said.

"I highly doubt that," Logan snorted.

Max paused, trying to digest that. Next to him Remy cleared his throat.

"Max, ya are right," he said, "Ya mom is an X-man."

Max turned on him. He hadn't wanted to go back when Max had asked him. Max might have been out for a few hours, but he remembered that. Remy continued talking though.

"Which means that she wouldn't a wanted us ta go back for her if it meant putting everyone else in danger," he said, "She woulda wanted us ta get out, getcha ta safety. Sacrificin da team ta save one person...it don't work dat way."

He remembered his mother, the way she had instructed Angel to take them out. Max looked at Remy. He felt torn. How could they leave her behind? It might have been dangerous, but they were supposed to be X-men.

Remy seemed to sense his thoughts. He gave him a sad smile.

"I told ya," Remy said, "It's not all fun an games."

Max looked at the sky. He could feel a swirl of different emotions building up at him. Footsteps approached the camp. Max tore his eyes away from the sky and saw that Magneto was standing there, looking tired and more than a little angry. He was singed and Max remembered what Logan had said about the fire.

"The Professor and his wife are still back there too, aren't they?" Max asked.

"It's likely," Magneto said, "The information we received said that these people wanted the Institute as a base."

Max swallowed and looked around. He didn't know what to do.

"I believe you have a sister," Magneto said.

His tone was calm yet distant. Max focused on him, his heart still fracturing.

"How do you...?" he asked.

"Where is she?" Magneto asked.

"Wit the other students," Rogue said.

Her tone was still suspicious. Max wished that he could find it in himself to be hostile to Magneto. He was the one that Logan had to away though. Not the other way around. It had been stupid, that act of bravado, but it was the kind of thing that Max thought an X-man would do.

"Then some members of your family are safe," Magneto said, "Be thankful for that."

Max bristled.

"My mom's still alive," he said.

"Of course," Magneto said.

Logan gave Magneto a sharp look, but didn't say anything.

"She's not safe by any means, but I do believe she could very well be alive," Magneto said.

Max swallowed again and looked at the sky. He could see the stars there, one of them shining brighter than the other. Dim memories of astronomy lessons were called forth. It was the north star up there. Polaris.

He felt tears streaming down his cheeks and fought to stop them.

"We're going to get her back," Max said.

"Of course," Magneto said.

Max continued to stare at the stars for a minute, unaware that he wasn't the only one grieving.


	32. Chapter 32

August 18, 1992

"Where's everyone?" Luna asked.

Angel stroked the young girl's hair and swallowed. She glanced around the woods at the other students who had made it out of the Institute. Many of them were wearing their pajamas. Others were singed and looked around in fear. They huddled in small groups, all of them looking more than just a little scared of what was happening. A few were sleeping, but most of them were huddling together.

One student was standing commandingly around them. He had his arms folded across his chest and was staring in the direction that they had come.

"Aunt Angel?" Luna asked.

Angel looked down. She stroked Luna's hair. She thought of Luna's brother and hoped that he was safe. He was Alex and Lorna's child, so he was combat ready. Bad things could happen to anyone at any time though, whether or not they were combat ready. Azazel's death had taught her that.

She shook her head.

"I'm sure that they'll be here in a few minutes," Angel said.

Next to Angel Bobby shifted, his hands on his knees. He was looking back in the direction of the Institute. No doubt he was thinking about Rogue. Angel had made the decision to go after them, to forcibly drag Max out of the Institute if that was what it took. She'd been passing Luna, the young girl's eyes filling with tears, to Bobby.

Then a portion of the roof had collapsed, blocking off the way that Max and Rogue had gone. Angel had tried to redirect them, get downstairs to where they were. However, no alternative path had presented itself.

With the soldiers closing in Angel had made the decision to save Luna. She was sure that Max and Lorna were alright, although Lorna would no doubt be furious at her son for disobeying her. Max had far too much of Lorna in him than was good for him.

She kissed Luna's forehead. Luna reminded Angel of Lorna when she'd been younger. She didn't remind her of the young child that had been brought into the Brotherhood though, a child who would, three years later, hold a knife to Azazel's throat while training in combat.

Instead she thought of the little girl who had walked hand in hand with Susanna. That child had never really seen the horrors that life would bring. Not yet. Despite what Luna had seen tonight, she was still an innocent. Max was still an innocent too, although if he did join the X-men Angel knew that that would end.

"Try to get some sleep," Angel said, "I'll wake you as soon as they get here."

Luna yawned and laid down on the grass. Angel took off her bathrobe and tucked it around Luna. She waited for Luna to fall asleep. It didn't take too long. Angel got to her feet and made a gesture towards Bobby.

"Watch her," she said.

Bobby nodded, his expression numb. Angel walked up to the student with his arms crossed over his chest. He seemed to be one of the only ones who wasn't panicking.

"Your name?" she asked.

His eyes registered mild surprise, but Angel wasn't going to bother with too many niceties. She had never been a heavy-hitter in the Brotherhood, but she knew enough to know when discipline and order were and weren't required.

"Your name," Angel repeated.

"Piotr," the student said, his voice deep and rumbling, "Piotr Rasputin."

"Angel Salvadore," Angel said.

She turned her head so she could see the direction that he was gazing.

"They're not coming back that way," Angel said, "That would be too obvious."

Piotr grunted.

"We need to get out of here," Angel said, "Move a little further into the woods, or find some defensible ground."

"X-men will be here soon," Piotr said.

Angel raised her eyebrows. She had no idea that so many students had known about the X-men. Still, it was of little consequence. She shook her head at Piotr's assertion, crossing her own arms.

"Maybe, maybe not," she said, "But we have a lot of children here, a lot of young children, and there were a lot of soldiers. Now, I'm a mutant, but I didn't go to this school when I was younger-"

"Then why are you here now? Piotr asked.

Angel bit her lip. There was so much she could say to that question. She could say it was because she had made a mistake as a teenager, one that had sucked her into a world of violence and hatred. She could say it was because she had found that she cared more about Lorna than she did about her cause. She could say it was because Lorna had made her Luna and Max's aunt, had invested her in their lives.

He hadn't asked that though. Angel wondered why her mind was drifting. She supposed it was smoke inhalation.

"Lorna Summers came down to visit her son," Angel said, "I'm his aunt, and I was minding his sister when all of this went down."

Piotr nodded vaguely.

"The reason I'm telling you all of this," Angel said, "Is because I was wondering if there was another building on the property."

"And I would know why?" Piotr asked.

"Please, you know about the X-men," Angel said, "I'm guessing that's because you're some sort of student body leader, that you've been here for a while. I haven't, and we need to move. I'm sure the X-men are coming, but they're far away now."

Piotr nodded again and uncrossed his arms. He pointed further into the woods.

"There is building used for camping trips," he said, "Bio...biology, da? Something like that."

"Does it have a phone?" Angel asked.

"Da," Piotr said.

"Good," Angel said.

She gestured to the students around them.

"Because I have a feeling that we're going to be making some phone calls soon," she said.

* * *

David waited patiently while Scott pulled him away from the rest of the group. He knew exactly what Scott was going to say, but there was no point in interrupting him. He'd had a feeling this was coming.

"David, I know that you haven't always grown up with the most...positive image of the Brotherhood," Scott said, "It's an understatement, but I understand how you feel. I grew up hating them as well."

He hadn't grown up hating Lorna though. David decided to hold his tongue, wait for Scott to continue his talk. It might make him feel better.

"However," Scott said, "right now we're working with them. Mystique is dangerous. They're all dangerous, and antagonizing them is not a good idea. We need to work with them on this to figure out what's happening."

David let Scott sigh deeply.

"Do you understand?" he asked.

"I understand perfectly," David said.

"Good," Scott said.

Scott let go of his shoulder. He began to move away, but David put a hand on Scott's shoulder to stop him.

"But I want you to listen to me," he said.

Scott grimaced and turned around.

"You weren't in the right," Scott said, "I can't babysit everyone and-"

"I don't need a babysitter," David said, "I just need you to listen to a potential problem before it comes to its natural conclusion."

Scott's brow furrowed and he waited. David breathed in.

"Scott, I want Mystique to stay the hell away from my brother," he said.

Even beneath the goggles David could tell that Scott's eyes were widening. David kept his gaze level with him, wanting him to know just how much he meant every single word that he said in the next few minutes.

"Why...?" Scott said.

"Uncle Scott, now's not the time to see me as little David, Charles's itty-bitty son anymore," David said, "Now is the time to see me as the man who, at one point, believed that he was going to become an X-man."

Scott slumped and David wanted to smack himself. He hadn't thought about how that sounded.

"Me not becoming an X-man is immaterial though," David said, "What is material is what I learned when I thought that I was going to be one. Namely, the names, ages, and certain details about every known member of the Brotherhood, both past and present."

He could almost hear the wheels clicking away in Scott's head.

"I saw Mystique's photo, read that she was once Raven Xavier," David said, "And I took a long look at Azazel Wagner. Do you understand what I'm trying to get at Uncle Scott?"

Scott's mouth moved silently for a moment. David prayed that he knew what he meant. He wasn't going to say it if he didn't have to. Even then he wouldn't say it, wouldn't call Mystique Kurt's mother and Azazel his father.

"I don't know what's going on in Mystique's head," David said, "All I know is that Kurt is sensitive, and certainly shouldn't have been in this fight. We also have a civilian who's been mixed up in all of this. I know you don't know about her, but Amanda is the woman Kurt loves."

Scott looked as though someone were piling bricks onto his back. David knew the feeling.

"He is going to be handling a lot for the next few hours, on top of whatever this is happening to the Institute," David said, "And don't think that I haven't thought of...that I haven't...that I'm not worried about my parents."

David was worried about his parents, more than words could express. He had never been too familiar with the Institute's security systems. The greatest defense of the school was its anonymity. Beyond that he knew there were technological saves, and mutants who were trained to fight and protect it.

Several of those mutants were in Boston though. David could only hope that his parents were safe, that whatever happened hadn't impacted the Institute too much, or for too long. He didn't know just how long the Institute could keep up its defenses.

"However," David said, "I can't help them right now. The only person that I can help is Kurt. Was talking that way to Mystique stupid? Yes. But I want to make damn sure that she knows to stay away from me and the rest of my family."

Scott looked over at Mystique.

"It's likely she won't say anything to him," Scott said, "Today is the first day that I can remember where Mystique's said more than five syllables."

"Exactly. She's unpredictable," David said, "I'm just trying to watch out for Kurt. That's all Uncle Scott. I'm not..."

He ran a hand through his hair.

"I mean, don't get me wrong, I don't like Mystique on principle," he said, "But beyond that...she's not someone that I would trust with a dog, let alone my brother."

Scott nodded, understanding.

"Alright," he said, "Just don't overdo it. You were really pushing it back there."

"Right," David said.

"And if I tell you to stop it, you'll stop it," Scott said.

"Of course," David said.

"Good," Scott said.

He began to walk away from him.

"I know what it means to watch your brother's back," Scott said.

David smiled to himself. He followed Scott. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Mystique tilt her head at him. David was glad that Scott had understood. Kurt already had a mother: her name was Moira Xavier. He already had a father: his name was Charles Xavier. He certainly didn't need Mystique and Azazel.


	33. Chapter 33

August 18, 1992

"Amanda?" Kurt asked.

Amanda looked up at him. Kurt was a mess. She knew that meant that she must be too. She could feel the grit building up on her skin, and the way that her eyes stung couldn't be good either.

He'd barely said anything to her before tucking her inside a convenient, abandoned building some way from the fighting. She had still been able to watch the fight in the square though. Amanda had watched with bated breath as the cop cars had come in, almost screamed every time she saw someone shoot at Kurt.

"Amanda?" Kurt said.

He held out his hand. Amanda reached out and took it. She got up tentatively. Kurt touched the side of her face. The dirt smudged under his fingers.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She flicked her eyes up so that they met his.

"I'm not injured," Amanda said.

Kurt winced. He understood what she meant.

"Amanda, I didn't mean for this to happen," he said.

"I know," Amanda said.

He put his arm around her shoulder. Amanda pressed her hand against his chest.

"Can we walk?" she asked.

Kurt's teleportations made her feel dizzy, and Amanda felt sick enough as it was. Kurt nodded and the two of them began to walk towards he square.

"I...I didn't mean for you to get caught up in all of this," he said.

Amanda looked at him, waiting and wondering. What was he going to say to try to make all of this go away? What could he say?

"I'm sorry that I didn't tell you," he said, "But...I couldn't figure out a way...I'm not part of this."

Kurt gestured around with his hands. She could see the back of the plane now, see the square that she had walked through earlier that day blasted to pieces.

"This is my family, what my family's been doing for years," he said, "But I never...I never intended to be part of this. And the last thing I wanted was for anything to happen to you. I just...there's so much more at stake then just me. I couldn't tell you."

Amanda shook her head.

"Kurt, that's not...that's not important," she said.

Kurt stared at her. Amanda stopped walking. She put her hands on either side of his face.

"Kurt, I get why you couldn't tell me," she said, "I agree with you not telling me. I mean...I don't think that Tony Stark tells Pepper Potts everything that goes on with the Avengers."

Her hands slid to his shoulders.

"But...Kurt...I just...we all nearly got killed back there," Amanda said.

"It looked a lot closer than it was," Kurt said, "Really."

His voice was so earnest that Amanda could almost believe him.

"You nearly got killed a couple of times," Amanda said.

"Like I said," Kurt said, "It wasn't as close as it looked."

She shook her head.

"I don't think you understand what I'm saying," Amanda said, "Kurt, do you know...do you know what it would feel like if you got hurt? If you died?"

"That won't happen," Kurt said.

Amanda swallowed and looked around her. She saw the destruction in the square, remembered the crashes and the explosions. It was all almost too much to even think of. Amanda hadn't grown up to believe she would be around that sort of thing.

"Kurt," she said, "I love you."

She wrapped her arms around his waist.

"So just keep telling me that," Amanda said, "And make me believe it."

He pulled her head up and kissed her. Amanda squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out all of the smells and tastes of the battlefield that surrounded Kurt. She tried to focus on the image she'd always held of him, the goofy, shy, polite artist who looked at the world in a way she envied.

The kiss ended and Amanda bowed her head.

"Don't you dare get hurt when I'm not around to lecture you," Amanda said, "Okay?"

"Got it," Kurt said, smiling weakly.

Amanda nodded and leaned on his chest.

"Please take me home," she said, "And we can...we can talk after all of this is over. Maybe they'll give you a ride this time."

"That isn't going to be an option."

Amanda turned her head and saw David coming up to them. He was still wiping blood off his face.

"What do you mean?" Kurt said.

"Uncle Scott talked to me," David said, "Amanda...they've seen you with us. If we take you home right now...then it's likely that they'll just come after you."

"David," Kurt said.

She heard that pleading tone in his voice. Amanda understood. She wasn't sure how much more of the madness she could take. Amanda had, when she'd watched films, wondered how the husbands and wives of soldiers and cops felt while they waited for them to come home. She'd never thought that she'd had to portray that kind of strength herself.

David gave a firm nod. She wasn't sure who she was seeing at the moment. She'd always seen David as standoffish, a little cold, but a decent person. Now a lot of that coldness was in full force, as though his exhaustion was building walls of some sort.

Amanda wanted nothing more to protest what was happening. She couldn't stay with them. She didn't know about planes or fighting or anything like that. Her skills were limited, and at the moment they seemed woefully inadequate.

She saw Kurt nod though, his whole face looking as though it were sliding down some great cliff.

"Kurt..." Amanda said.

Kurt closed his eyes.

"Amanda, I can't let you get hurt," he said.

She wanted to tell him that she wanted to go home. Amanda thought about her family. She had already gotten caught up in all of the madness. She couldn't allow them to get caught up in it too.

So she forced her fears away and nodded. Amanda wasn't sure if she could manage words for the moment. David smiled at the two of them, and for a moment she could see him as he'd been. He seemed tired, as though he were carrying some sort of great burden that he couldn't share.

Then his eyes closed up again.

"Kurt, Uncle Scott wants to know if you can see if there are any transistors in the cargo bay of the Blackbird," David said, "Jean says she needs to replace one and then we can get going. It's kind of difficult to move around up there."

Kurt gave her a worried look. Amanda waved him on, feeling the fear swelling up inside her. Kurt bit his lip as Sharon walked up. Her clothes were covered in grease, but her eyes were shining.

"I'll stay with her," Sharon said, "You and David figure out the transistors."

Kurt looked like he wanted to protest, but David put his hand on Kurt's shoulder.

"She'll be fine for five minutes," David said.

Kurt looked glumly at her. Amanda waved him on again, this time managing to smile. He smiled back before walking away with his brother.

"How are you feeling?" Sharon asked.

Amanda shrugged. She wasn't feeling talkative.

"It's difficult, getting caught up ins all of this," Sharon said, "I mean, I'm hardly a stranger to all of this, but I wasn't supposed to be as connected, as involved, as I ended up being."

Amanda still didn't say anything. Sharon didn't seem bothered by this.

"It's probably harder for you than anything I went through, anything I might be feeling right now," Sharon said, "I at least knew about all of this before it started."

Sharon leaned against the wall.

"When I was a child, there was this story," Sharon said, "I heard it in so many different ways, but the elements all remained the same. It was almost as though it was a kind of fairy tale for us, the X-kids."

She laughed and tucked some white hair behind her ear. Amanda continued to stare forward, her ears hearing every other word of what Sharon was saying.

"Story goes that there were a couple of people," Sharon said, "They set out to save the world. They succeeded, but some people decided that the way it had been achieved...that it wasn't good enough. That they hadn't really won. So they went off, and they formed those guys."

Sharon jerked her head in the direction of the blue woman and the two people with her. Amanda glanced at them before turning her attention back to Sharon.

"After that, where there had been seven, there were only five people. Four of them were mutants, and four of them were guys. The fifth was a woman, a former analyst for the CIA," Sharon said, "After some misunderstandings, she got married to the leader. The X-men were supported by their partnership, the united strength that they always showed. The husband led and the wife shored up his position. She helped train the others. Those two people, in a few years, became David and Kurt's parents."

Amanda bit her lip and looked at Sharon. Sharon continued talking to the air, almost as though Amanda wasn't there.

"As for the other three, they were pretty much kids when it all started," Sharon said, "The oldest was eighteen. The other two were fifteen. One of the younger ones fell in love with a girl. They got married. She died in a car accident soon after having his kid. Freak accident."

She waved her hand.

"Before my time," she said, "As far as I know they were happy together, but the marriage didn't last long. Not even a year before she died."

Amanda bit her lip harder. She had a feeling that she knew what that meant.

"The other guy, he married another mutant," Sharon said, "She was a soldier in her own right, a fierce fighter. They make a pretty tough team. You haven't met their kids yet, but that guy with the goggles? He's that guy's brother."

Amanda stopped biting her lip.

"This is interesting," she said, "But why are you telling me this?"

"I'm getting to that," Sharon said, "Now, the last guy, he kind of leaves the group after a few years. Settles down, leads a pretty normal life for a while. Meets a human woman, falls in love. Then one day the X-men accidentally bring a fight to his doorstep when one of them gets injured. His girlfriend had no idea. She had to deal with everything at once."

Sharon's tone was still matter-of-fact, but Amanda could hear her heartbeat pick up.

"What did she do?" Amanda asked, "How...?"

Sharon looked down.

"No clue how she handled it," she said, "All I know is that she did handle it. She stayed with him, and things got worse after that. She was just a normal woman, trained to be a secretary, not a war aide. But..."

Sharon raised her head and met Amanda's eyes again.

"I think that there's a kind of strength that can't be taught when you love someone," she said, "I think that sometimes, no matter what the consequences, you just have to stick it out."

She thumped her chest.

"I think it comes from within you, deep down, and if you think about it, you'll find that you have it," Sharon said.

She pushed away from the wall and touched Amanda's shoulder as she went by.

"You're not doing so bad for someone in shock you know," Sharon said.

Amanda smiled, the first genuine one she'd had in hours. She paused.

"I think I know where this story is going," she said, "But did these two have any children?"

Sharon laughed. She tossed her hair and continued towards the Blackbird.

"You're looking at her," Sharon said.


	34. Chapter 34

August 18, 1992

"They're not here," Max said.

His voice was blank. Erik looked at the boy, seeing the desolation written on his face. He hadn't been taught to hide his emotions. Then again, why would he? He'd been raised in safety, far, far away from the terrible war that was raging all around them.

Erik studied him, looking for some trace of Lorna. He needed to know that Max was his mother's son, not his fathers. It seemed strangely important that her genes be more prominent in his grandson, the genes of a misguided warrior, not a brash fool.

He didn't see much of Lorna in his features. Instead Erik saw some of himself. It wasn't anything too obvious, but the boy had his nose and jawline. His hair was overgrown, a dark brown, and it made his eyes look darker. They weren't green like Lorna and Susanna. They were his.

Logan's nostrils flared as he walked further into the clearing.

"They were an hour ago kid," he said.

He pointed into the woods.

"Went that way," he said.

"Why'd they leave?" Rogue said, "They didn't wait for anyone?"

"Chere, they did the right thing," Gambit said, "They had ta get da kids outta here. Somewhere a little safer."

"Best get moving," Logan said.

He began moving through some trees. Emma and Toad followed, with Toad looking behind his shoulder at Max. Erik wished that he would stop goggling at the boy. Toad had been Lorna's friend for a long time, and Erik suspected that her leaving had left him more sad than angry. Her son was quite the curiosity for him.

Nonetheless, it had quickly become obvious that the boy didn't know who he was. Max didn't know that Erik was his grandfather. It wasn't as though that was his fault. Erik thought of turning his back on Alex, walking away from the knowledge of his grandson's birth.

Max not knowing who he was, not even having Lorna tell him, felt strangely terrible. It shouldn't, but Erik knew that nothing was ever simple or happened the way it should when it concerned Lorna. He was forcing himself to show discretion, and he felt that Toad should do the same.

Rogue sighed and looked at Max.

"Ya okay?" she asked.

Max shook his head.

"Let's get moving," he said.

Erik moved on, pretending not to be interested in the conversation. Gambit stood behind the two of them, a sort of rear guard.

"Max, I know it's tough," Rogue said.

Max ran a hand through his hair.

"Rogue, please don't...please don't talk about it," he said.

Rogue appeared taken back. Gambit shifted his feet uncomfortably. It was cute. He was trying not to listen in.

"Max-" she said.

"Rogue," Max said, "Please. I wasn't...I'm not like you. I don't know..."

He ran his hand through his hair again. It was long, not the haircut of someone who had to fight. He'd wanted to tell Lorna to cut her own hair so often to avoid it getting pulled in battle. She had been so proud of it though, a feature which distinguished her as a member of the superior race. She had been given a gift that he hadn't: something that would identify her as the goddess among ants that she was. He hadn't the heart to tell her to cut it.

"Listen," Max said, "I was taught, when I was younger, that when things were going down, you didn't start whining about how your own problems. Not when there were bigger ones."

Erik blinked. His words were hauntingly familiar, coming from a different time.

"Max, dis ain't stubbin your thumb," Gambit said, "Dis is ya mama."

"Yeah, thanks for reminding me," Max snapped.

He looked down at his hands.

"But right now, I need to think about my aunt and my sister," he said, "And once we make sure they're safe, then we can work on saving my mother. But until then I can't really help her. So I need to focus on the task at hand."

Max directed his gaze to Rogue.

"Please stop distracting me," he said, "Please."

Rogue nodded, looking uncertain. Gambit nodded too, his eyebrows raised. Max shook his head.

"Never mind," he said, "I need to do something."

He separated from the two of them. Erik made sure to keep his eyes ahead. Was the boy coming to him? He couldn't believe that. He'd grown up with Alex as a father. No matter what his mother had tried to teach him, he was sure that the Brotherhood had become the boogeymen of Max's childhood. Erik thought of Luna, who would be ten. He didn't like to think about how she'd see him.

Max drew level with him. Erik could feel his heart beat faster, and he forced himself to only give a casual glance towards Max.

"Yes?" he asked, his voice cool.

Max smiled half-heartedly and put his hands in his pockets.

"Logan told me what happened in the Institute," he said.

Erik tilted his head up, curious. Max took a deep breath.

"Thank you," he said.

Erik almost dropped his jaw.

"Excuse me?" he asked.

"I know there's probably a lot of...stuff between my mom and you," Max said.

He had no idea.

"But you went back to try to help her," Max said, "And it sounds like you tried a fair shot harder than Logan did. I never thought that I'd say this to you, but thank you."

Max looked down. Erik stared at him, wondering what to say. He finally shrugged one of his shoulders.

"Your gratitude is pointless," Erik said, "I wasn't able to save her."

Max laughed.

"Yeah, but you tried. Tried really hard," he said, "I know you're not into this sort of thing, but that counts for something where I come from. It means...you didn't have to, that's all I'm saying."

Erik wanted to tell him that he did have to. He remembered seeing Lorna, the way her eyes had widened when he had come closer. The way she'd said 'Father' was still echoing deep inside of his mind.

"You've had a very interesting upbringing," Erik said.

"Yeah," Max said.

He just smiled again.

"But, I really want you to remember what I said," Max said, "If I live forever I won't forget what you did tonight, even though I'm not sure why."

Words were forming on his tongue, rash, stupid words. He wanted to tell Max that he'd done it because Lorna was his daughter, that Max was his grandson. He wanted to ask why Lorna had never mentioned him. Had it been because she had wanted her children to grow up without his shadow hanging over them? Erik couldn't blame her, not when they would always be surrounded by X-men.

The boy next to him was an innocent though, guileless if his words were anything to go by. What could Erik say to him? Would he impose that nightmare on him? Yes, he was thanking him for trying to save his mother. He was even being civil. If he found out that he was his grandfather, then all of that would disappear.

"I just wanted to say that now, when there was an opportunity," Max said, "I don't think we're going to meet on good terms in the future."

"Perhaps," Erik said.

Max just laughed. He seemed amused, almost as though he'd been expecting for Erik to say that.

"Right," Max said.

He looked at the stars, his eyes distant. Erik knew what the boy was doing. For some reason or another Polaris was clearly visible that night, the new name that his daughter had taken on. She'd wanted to be remembered as a teacher, a guide. Not as Magnetrix.

Erik stared ahead. He didn't trust himself to look up.

* * *

"Da boy can be a damn fool sometimes," Remy said.

Rogue watched as Max walked up to Erik. She gripped Remy's coat tighter around her shoulders.

"He just wants ta say thank you," Rogue said, "That's all it is."

Remy watched him, a frown on his face. Rogue continued to watch Max as well. She didn't think that Magneto would hurt him, not with them so close by. She couldn't forget the night at Staten Island though, own cries and screams as she was led towards what she thought was her death.

Max knew this all, yet he'd gone up to Magneto as though there was nothing to be afraid of.

"Remy wishes he could be like dat."

The words were so abrupt that Rogue nearly jumped. Remy's expression had changed as he looked at Max.

"What do ya mean?" Rogue said.

"Fearless," Remy said, "Assured. Back at da Institute...he was right."

Remy shook his head.

"We shoulda gone back for Mrs. Summers," he said.

Rogue's eyes widened.

"Remy, ya did what ya thought ya had to do-" she said.

"Right, da smart thing," Remy said, "And it were still da smart thing. Not what we shoulda done though. Forgettin bout yourself, tryin ta do da right thing no matter what."

He looked gloomily at Max.

"After all dese years, I'm still not like dem," he said.

Rogue hesitated before putting her hand on Remy's arm. He wore long sleeves, so there was no chance of feeling his skin, but even the warmth through his shirt felt strange. He turned towards her in surprise.

"Ya don't hafta be like Kurt and David," she said, "Ya did da right thing back there. Ya were just tryin ta protect everyone."

Remy's red and black eyes bored into hers.

"Ya're pretty smart chere," he said, his voice quiet.

Up ahead of them Max separated from Magneto and began walking back towards them. Remy looked away and Rogue took her hand off his arm. She pulled herself deeper into her coat. Despite the August night she felt cold once she'd taken her hand away.

* * *

Sinister looked down at his set of chemicals. They were all lined up neatly, all of them in order. He smiled as he picked on up.

"You know, it was worth it," he said.

He picked up a syringe, his fingers turning it over as he inspected it.

"All of it," he said, "Those years. It was quiet. It gave me time to think, to plan. I think that I should do it more often. Maybe not for almost twenty years, and not in that SHIELD facility. Still, I should have some sort of think tank."

He filled the syringe with a green liquid. It felt a little like he was fighting a losing battle. It only worked for an hour or two at most.

"This is, of course, only temporary," he said, "I need a binding agent. Something that will coerce the neurons into weakness. This problem was foreseen. All of them are strong, and so are their minds. It will require some persuasion."

He turned the syringe over. The table jostled slightly, but Sinister ignored it. He'd tied the restraints properly. It wasn't as though he could be hurt. Not after all of the drugs he'd administered. He'd made sure of that.

"I have an idea of what I need," Sinister said, "I think that I'll have it soon. Then I can have my perfect creations."

Sinister tapped the syringe, looking at the liquid in the light. It fizzed slightly and he nodded to himself. He turned towards the table and looked down for a minute.

"It's not perfect," he said, "Not yet. I mean, of course it isn't. It's obvious. However, it's all so easy once you get past this one, single thing. I've had all the rare ingredients I could want. The cocktail I made out of young Summers's blood was, I believe, my best creation. Up until now of course."

His eyes softened as he turned the syringe over again.

"I just need this one thing," he said, "Just one more thing. And then...then my real work can begin. The world rebuilt in a perfect image."

He looked at the syringe again.

"I'll have it soon, won't I?" he said.

Sinister knew his voice was pleading. He laughed at it.

"Of course, my faith has always been rewarded in the past," he said.

He plunged the syringe into an arm, watching as the thrashing increased, only to drop off into the occasional twitch.

"Now then," Sinister said, "I think that it's time for a test run."


	35. Chapter 35

August 19, 1992

Angel looked at the students. Most of them were asleep, safely tucked into bunkers. The cabin was large. Angel couldn't believe that it was only used for the occasional camping trip. It had far too many amenities.

Not for the first time she wondered just how rich the professor was. There had to be some sort of limit. He came from old money, something that Angel didn't even pretend to understand. All she knew was that he had a lot of it.

Archangel had been rich too. Angel vaguely remembered hearing, after she had quit the Brotherhood, that he was some sort of high-powered executive now. Maybe he donated occasionally. Hank had money as well. He must, now that he was a senator.

All around her she could hear a few soft murmurs. It was getting quiet, although some of the older students were still awake. Piotr was talking quietly to a young girl with dark hair. Angel vaguely caught the name Kitty.

She finished tucking Luna in before she went up to him. Kitty remained standing next to Piotr and Angel tapped his shoulder. He turned.

"We need to set up some sort of watch post," she said, "Make sure someone's awake to raise the alarm in case anything happens."

"Most of us are not running on much sleep," Piotr said.

"I can take first watch," Angel said, "I'm used to not getting much sleep."

Piotr raised his eyebrows. Next to him Kitty yawned. She nodded to Angel before walking off. Piotr watched her go and Angel wanted to sigh. She could remember being that age. She'd never gone through anything like that. There hadn't been anyone around to go through that with.

After she left the room Piotr turned his eyes towards her.

"You will need someone with you, da?" he asked.

"Sure, why not?" Angel said.

She walked out to the porch and took a seat. Piotr walked behind her, the floorboards creaking beneath his weight. Angel looked into the woods.

"You are worried," Piotr said.

It wasn't a question. Angel laughed.

"Yes," she said, "My best friend is out there fighting for her life. I couldn't go back for her son, Luna's brother. No one has tried to contact us. I am very, very worried."

Piotr sat down next to her.

"The X-men will come through," he said.

Angel laughed.

"Piotr, your faith does you credit," Angel said, "But where I come from it's best not to put all your eggs in one basket. It tends to end up shattered and nasty when you drop it."

Piotr gave her a long look.

"Where exactly did you come from?" he asked.

She laughed again.

"Nowhere good," she said.

Angel leaned back in her chair.

"But I got the courage to leave," she said, "And now...well...the little girl in the house behind me is the only member of my family I managed to save tonight."

She smiled sadly at Piotr.

"Which means that I'm not a complete failure," she said, "And that I'll fight to the death to make sure that she's alright."

Piotr nodded, as though this was satisfactory somehow. Angel leaned back further in the chair and looked out into the night, knowing she was up for a long wait. She could only hope and pray that Lorna and her son were safe.

* * *

Sean got out of the car. He'd come down as fast as he could. Having someone use your SHIELD clearance was no small matter. Alex had come with him. His flight had been delayed due to the storms in Florida, a fact which annoyed him greatly, and he'd been grateful to hitch a ride.

He wasn't happy that Terry had insisted on coming though. She was off pain medications. In many ways the wounds that she had sustained to her throat were very light. In other ways they were the most horrific thing that could have ever happened to her.

Terry moved, intending to get out of the car. Sean looked behind him, beseeching her with his eyes to stay. Terry stared silently back at him, her eyes narrowing by the second. He sighed and got out of the car. He wished that she would just understand that he wanted her safe.

Across the way he saw a small group of SHIELD agents standing on the perimeter. He could just make out Coulson and Sean walked up to him. He saw Coulson's eyes scan Alex, but once more he knew better than to ask questions.

"So, do you know what happened?" Sean asked.

"Unfortunately yes," Coulson said.

He gestured to the square behind him.

"It appears that a very advanced plane nearly crashed into the square," Coulson said, "Bystanders said a small group of young adults, aged about twenty, helped set it down."

Sean's heart sank.

"Were they flying it?" he asked.

"They were on the ground," Coulson said.

Behind him Alex swore. Sean felt like he needed some Tylenol. After that he was going to have to talk to Charles about making the X-men a bit more discreet.

"Afterwards one of them pulled out a SHIELD clearance and kept police away from the scene," Coulson said, "We didn't get a chance to ask what happened. Witnesses said that they took off about half an hour ago."

"Are you tracking them?" Sean said.

The question contained a few different layers. Coulson was well-trained enough to pick up on them all, just like his father had been.

"No," Coulson said, "We figured it would be pointless. The one with the clearance, your clearance stayed behind though."

Sean rubbed his temples.

"I'll fill out the paperwork to get my ass handed to me by Fury later," he said, "First I want to interrogate this guy."

"There's no need," Coulson said.

Behind him Terry crossed her arms. Sean frowned.

"Which one?" he asked.

"The first," Coulson said.

"You don't need to cover me," Sean said, "Not for this. This was my own fault-"

"It was Deadpool," Coulson said.

There was a long pause. Sean could see Terry stiffen, her whole body tensing.

"The guy with your clearance," Coulson said, "I think that Director Fury would understand."

Sean nodded, his throat dry. Alex glowered behind him, but Sean was more worried about his daughter. She continued to stare straight ahead, her eyes fixed on some unknowable point. He swallowed.

"Okay," he said, "But I still need to...talk to him."

What he really wanted to do was start punching him and never stop. He'd had his doubts about him from the beginning, his brash, insane ways. He'd worried about his daughter getting mixed up in that. Deadpool was more than just psychotic: he'd been a mercenary, and a particularly ruthless one. He did the dirtiest jobs as long as the money was halfway good.

He'd ended up owing SHIELD a few favors though, so he'd been around them far too much. Terry had always argued that there was good in him, good that not everyone could see. Sean had forced himself to step back, to try and accept his daughter's judgment. What had it gotten them? Terry had ended up hurt worse than she'd been hurt since she was a child. She hadn't cried about it, hadn't written any notes about him. Sean knew that she was in pain though. It was written across her face.

Sean began moving through the crowds. To his surprise and discomfort he noticed that Terry was following him. At least Alex had decided to sit this one out.

"Terry," Sean said, "it might be a good idea for you to stay with Alex."

Terry shook her head. Sean rubbed the back of his face.

"Listen," he said, "just...give me a few minutes to interrogate him, okay? I can do that alone."

His daughter looked at him, her arms still folded across her chest. He hoped that she would agree. Sean knew that he'd have to force himself from fighting Deadpool. He couldn't be that person, especially not in front of Terry. She wasn't a child anymore, but he never wanted to let her down.

There was a job to be done though, and he wanted to get it out of the way. After that he didn't object to Terry writing down whatever it was she needed to say to Deadpool. It might even be a good idea for her to think about it for a while.

Terry looked away and nodded. Sean smiled in relief.

"I'll only be a few minutes," he said.

Terry nodded again. Sean turned away from her and began walking further into the square. Deadpool was leaning against a wall, glaring at the ground. His eyes flicked up before looking back down at the ground.

"It's bout time you showed up Cassidy," he said, "I'm bored outta my skull."

"We're not here for your amusement," Sean said, "Now tell me why the hell you used my clearance. You should've known that would get my attention."

He put his hands in his pockets to keep them from turning into fists.

"You must've known I'd have to fight the urge to find a way to kill you," he said.

Deadpool stayed quiet for a few minutes. Sean had never seen him stay quiet for so long. Sean gritted his teeth impatiently.

"Just tell me why you did it," he said, "because I'm five minutes from leaving."

"I tracked down the people who hurt Terry here," Deadpool said, "Almost got em, but there were too many foot soldiers. Some of your buddies showed up after that."

Sean cocked his head. He slowed down Deadpool's words and thought about them for a minute.

"First, I think you could've waited before doing that," Sean said.

Deadpool's mask bunched around his mouth. Sean could tell that he was getting annoyed. He didn't see why. It was about time that someone stated the obvious.

"Secondly," Sean said, "what do you mean, my buddies?"

"The guy with the goggles, the redhead, and the weird-ass women with white hair," Deadpool snapped, "Then there's the blue elf guy, the blonde, and the dude with psychic powers."

Sean rested his chin on his hands. It was easy enough to identify Scott, Jean, and Ororo from what Deadpool had said. It was obvious that the X-men had been there. However, some of his other words were more disturbing. He had no idea who the blonde was, but he knew that Sharon, David, and Kurt had been there.

It didn't bode well.

"Tell me everything you know," Sean said.

He listened through Deadpool's disjointed narrative with growing trepidation. He needed to tell Alex, needed to tell everyone and anyone that they could. He still had Calvin and Clarice's numbers. He wasn't sure if Jaime and John would come, but he knew that he could count on the Rankins.

"Okay," Sean said.

He turned around and heard footsteps behind him.

"What are you doing?" Sean asked.

"What's it look like? I'm goin wit ya," Deadpool said.

"No, you're not," Sean said.

"You need all the people you can get," Deadpool snapped.

"Yes, but we also need people who will stay!" Sean said.

Deadpool's eyes narrowed. Sean shook his head.

"Don't give me that look," he said, "We both know it's true."

Deadpool sneered.

"And here I was thinkin you'd be practical," he said.

Sean glared at him, his fingernails digging into his palms.

"Fine, you can come," he said, "But you will listen to us."

Deadpool shrugged. Sean pushed his way out of the square, furious. It was only the sight of Terry, standing at the edge of the square, that stopped him. He heard Deadpool stop short as Terry's eyes stared grimly ahead.

Next to him Deadpool stepped forward until he was only a foot away from Terry. Sean watched intently.

"Terry-" Deadpool began.

Terry turned on her heel and walked away, her footfalls loud on the pavement.


	36. Chapter 36

August 19, 1992

"We should be there in about five minutes," Jean said.

Scott nodded and looked over his shoulder.

"Are their communications still out?" he asked.

"All I'm getting is static," Ororo said.

He rubbed his temples and looked at the back of the plane. He hadn't felt good about bringing Kurt, Amanda, David, and Sharon along. Having the Brotherhood with them was bad enough, but they were all inexperienced.

David and Kurt had been through the training, true enough. That had been years ago though, and Kurt had become a pacifist since then. David had been banned from joining, and the reason for that ban still stood. They had no idea how much influence those voices had in his head when it came towards distracting him or hampering his cognitive abilities.

Sharon hadn't been through the training. She had done well enough in the square, but not well enough for him to suddenly accept her into the X-men. Amanda was, point blank, a terrible idea. She had no combat training, and she didn't even have a mutation that would help her.

Scott couldn't just leave them though. He'd considered making a detour to Washington so Hank could take care of them, even with time against them. Whatever damage could have been done to the Institute had most likely already taken place.

As he'd been thinking about it David had sat up straighter. Scott had paused, wondering if David was reading his mind, or if his face just had a particularly bad give. He'd always been terrible at poker, something Alex had always taken advantage of.

David had met his eyes and slowly shook his head. There was something dangerous there, something that Scott didn't want to examine. He'd turned back to the console, wondering just what was going on in the younger Xavier's head.

Two seats down Mystique was staring straight ahead, her expression neutral. Scott wondered about what David had said earlier. He had, just like the rest of his team, figured out who Kurt's parents were. It was obvious from the first moment that Charles and Moira had showed them the child that they planned to adopt.

He had waited for Alex to say something. His brother had stared at Kurt for a few minutes, a small nerve in his forehead twitching. Finally he'd said:

"He looks like he'll be a handful."

It was, perhaps, the only thing that he could say without addressing the obvious. Moira had fixed him with a steely glare.

"We'll manage," she'd said.

"I can't imagine him being any more difficult than David," Charles had added.

His voice had carried a warning in it, although it was a subtle one. Scott knew then that he was never allowed to discuss who Kurt's real parents were. It was a taboo subject, something that the X-men had ignored as Kurt grew older and began to teleport.

There had been problems, and Scott was well aware of them. He'd heard from his brother about Kurt disappearing for an hour when he heard he was adopted. He'd come back, David clasping his hand. they had never spoken of it ever again.

It appeared that they might have to speak about it again though. Kurt was eighteen now, and his biological mother was sitting only a few feet away from him. That was going to have consequences of some sort, no matter what David wanted.

"We're coming into range," Ororo said.

"Perfect," Scott said, "Marvel, land in the secondary landing zone. I have a feeling that the primary one might not be the best idea."

She nodded and began to take the plane down.

* * *

Angel felt drowsy. The cabin was peaceful, and all the harsh sounds of war had faded away. She took it as a good sign, a sign that things might be getting better out there. She wasn't sure just how much of that she believed: Max and Lorna still hadn't come back yet.

Piotr got up.

"I will go get Bobby and John," he said, "They will take next shift."

"Sounds good," Angel said.

She stretched. Her eyes caught a glimmer of something in the distance.

"Piotr," she said, her voice quiet, "I want you to act naturally. Go back into the house, get anyone who can fight, and tell them that we have a possible hostile out here. Try to get the kids out quietly through the back, and the rest of you come up here."

She saw Piotr's brow furrow. She stretched again, cocking her head to the side.

"Now Piotr," she whispered.

He moved away from her and went inside. Angel yawned and leaned against one of the porch's columns. She had to act calm, even though her heart sounded like a construction site. Whoever was out there, she couldn't let them know that she'd seen them.

The glimmer moved. It was definitely hostile. If they'd been friendly they would have declared themselves by now. Angel glanced impatiently at the door. She didn't have to pretend to be impatient this time. What was taking Piotr so long?

She heard a twig snap and her heart's hammerings became louder. They weren't trying to be stealthy. That meant that they didn't care if someone heard them. They had that much firepower at their disposal.

Angel's eyes widened. There was only one recourse for that. It was time to play the dumb bimbo. She'd been good at playing it in the past. Angel put on her best frightened face and leaned forward, her mouth open.

"Is someone there?" she asked, her voice reedy.

There was no answer. She hadn't expected there to be. She put her hand on one of the porch's columns. Where was Piotr? She was going to have to be the distraction now, have to draw the fire. Angel hoped that she could survive the first round.

Something whizzed past her ear. Angel fell to the floor, feeling blood coming from the side of her head. At first she thought that she'd been shot at. It hadn't made a noise, but she expected they would have silencers.

She'd been shot before though, and whatever that had been had been much bigger than a bullet. She glanced behind her and saw what looked like a thin, sharp metal knife quivering in the doorframe.

Piotr burst through the door, his skin gleaming. It looked as though it had been plated with metal. Behind him Angel recognized Bobby and John. One of the knives bounced harmlessly off of his skin.

"We will handle this," he said.

Angel rolled her eyes, keeping low to the ground. She hadn't been a particularly strong fighter, but she had been in more combative situations than any of the children next to her combined. Luna was in that house, and she needed time to escape.

"I think you'll need my help," Angel said.

She pushed herself up and peered into the woods.

"I think that there's only one of them out there," she said.

Angel picked up the metal knife that had fallen onto the floor. She almost cut her finger on it. There were no handle, just sharp edges. It couldn't be easy to throw these things. Where could you safely grip it?

She turned it over in her hand as the boys began looking around the woods. Angel dropped it and let it clatter to the floor.

"I think we're looking at a mutant," she said, "It's possible that he can create those things. They're too...delicate to be a close range weapon."

Bobby and John gave her an odd look. She rolled her eyes.

"Look, you can listen to me or we can all die," she said, "I'm endorsing the first option."

Bobby put his hands out in a placating gesture, just as another wave of the metal objects were tossed at them. Angel grabbed his foot and yanked him to the ground. Several sailed over his head. John got down and Piotr stood, letting the different objects bounce off him.

"Get down!" Angel said.

Piotr looked at her like she was crazy.

"It does not matter for me," he said.

"You're goading him!" Angel said.

Piotr continued to look at her with confusion. Angel began to move over towards him, keeping her head close to the ground. She remembered a few missions where soldiers had stood in the middle of a hall, confident in their ability to win the battle. What had made them so cocky? They hadn't had any metal on them.

Of course, every member of the Brotherhood carried some sort of metal for that express purpose. The soldiers that had stood there had been the first to fall, Magneto in turns amused and angered by their arrogance. When he was younger he would just draw them into one-on-one combat, taking them down that way. It was a violent, messy death when that happened.

Piotr finally got down, still looking confused. Angel put her hand on her forehead. The last thing they needed was another person standing there, thinking himself immune. He was too young and stupid to understand, and that made him too young and stupid to die.

"We need an attack plan," Angel said.

She waited as the boys blinked at her. She wanted to scream. Angel wasn't a tactician. She wasn't even a good assassin. They'd often said that she was too sentimental. It was why she'd been assigned to look over Lorna in the first place.

Now all those duties were falling to her. Angel looked nervously at the house.

"Who do you have evacuating the kids?" she asked.

"Kitty," Piotr said, "She walks through walls."

"Good," Angel said.

She swallowed.

"John, what can you do?" Angel asked.

"Fire," he smirked.

She nodded.

"Right then. Bobby, give us an ice shield," she said, "This guy likes ranged combat, so we're going to get up close. John, when I give the signal put the heat on the inside of it so it splatters out. Piotr, you're the first one to hit him."

She swallowed again.

"I guess I'm your back-up," Angel said.

She breathed in deeply and thought about the little girl in the house behind her. Maybe Kitty had already taken her out. Maybe she hadn't. Angel couldn't afford to take that chance. She had never gambled with Lorna's life, and she was certainly not going to gamble with Luna's.

"Everyone ready?" she asked.

"No," Bobby said.

"Well you're going to have to do it anyway," Angel said.

She got into a crouching position and jerked her head for Bobby to move up with her. He bit his lip and did so, his hands already forming frost.

"Three...two...one!" she said.

Bobby threw himself in front of the porch and threw his hands out. Frost blossomed out in front of them, thick and heavy. She saw a few of the metal pieces bounce off it. They were causing dents though, and she worried how much they would be able to advance.

Piotr stood next to her as they moved towards the shield. Angel could see that the cracks were increasing.

"John," she said.

John took out a lighter. He flicked it open and a fireball formed in his hand. He shot it towards the center of Bobby's ice shield, and the cracks grew bigger.

"I'll be right next to you Piotr," Angel said.

Piotr ran forward just as the ice shattered outwards. Angel hurried to keep up with him. He tackled a figure on the other side of it, pushing him to the ground. A second later a fist hit his metal skin, sending him back several feet and into a tree.

It had only taken seconds. She looked at the figure in front of her as it slowly got up, its limbs stretching out towards the sky. A fallen angel, crashing towards hell, ready to take someone down with them.


	37. Chapter 37

August 19, 1992

"They're close by," Logan said.

Max smiled and shifted his coat. Soon he would have something at least approaching normalcy. He was going to see family, was going to see something that wasn't shattered because of the events at the Institute.

As he moved his coat he felt something move inside. He wondered what it was. When he figured it out froze for a second. How could he have forgotten? He still hadn't taken out the knife that his mother had given him.

He could feel its weight pressing in on him now, and he couldn't help but feel nervous. The decision seemed more pressing now with what he'd witnessed back at the Institute. Despite his mother's wishes, it looked like he was going to have to go into combat without knowing his answer.

His weakness on the issue still bothered him. How could he not be ready to kill, ready to die if it came to it? It was a good cause, and he'd be on the side of right. His parents had made the decision that now faced him years ago. His mother might have died that night because of it.

Max shook the thought off. She'd made a difficult decision, true enough, but she hadn't died for it. He didn't care that the odds were against her survival. She was alive, and he was going to see her later. He just had to get to Angel and his sister first.

Logan stopped walking, taking a deeper sniff of the air.

"Max an Rogue, stay here," he said.

"Why?" Max said, his eyes narrowing.

Logan glanced at Remy. Max's nerves, already stretched tight, began to fray.

"Don't you dare tell me to stay behind again!" Max said.

Logan sighed. Emma smiled to herself, almost as though there were some private joke that no one else knew. It just made Max angrier. He didn't like Emma's smirks, didn't like the way Toad kept staring at him.

He knew that it had to do with his mother. They must know that she was the woman who had left the Brotherhood years ago and joined the X-men. If they were staring at him because they were hostile to his mother then it did make him wonder why Magneto wasn't giving him looks. He'd been cordial towards him, even if he seemed amused by most of what Max said.

"What's going on?" Max said.

"Could mean nothing," Logan said.

Max didn't like his tone. Rogue put her hand on Max's shoulder and stepped forward.

"Logan, what's happenin?" Rogue asked.

She sounded scared. Max didn't blame her, there were a few tendrils of fear wrapping around his rage now. Whatever Logan had smelt couldn't be good. However, he still needed to know what was happening. Angel and Luna kept dancing in front of his eyes. He needed to see them, needed to have something stable after that night.

"It's pretty faint, but I'm smellin blood," Logan said.

* * *

Angel dropped to the floor. The wind whistled above her head. She saw where the metal wing had sheered the air above her head, and she could feel a prickle where it had skimmed her scalp. Blood ran down her forehead as a cold sweat broke out on her body.

She aimed low and pushed off from his shin with her foot. The creature stumbled and Angel got to her feet. She spat up as much fire as she could muster onto one of his wings. The metal glowed, but it didn't melt. It didn't even seem to hurt him.

There was a flurry of the metal objects. It was like they were feathers of some sort. Angel didn't understand. Were the wings organic? What on earth was going on?

"Hey!"

Angel saw John, his hands full of fire.

"John, it doesn't hurt him!" Angel screamed.

She was too late. John had already aimed streams of fire at the creature's wings. The force knocked him back, but when he got to his feet his wings were glowing red. In the demonic light Angel could see a crystal in the middle of his forehead. It was blue, giving it a strange contrast to his red-hot wings.

The creature's wings flapped and it shot up into the sky. He could fly with those wings: they weren't just for show. Angel saw him dive towards John. He made contact, shoving John into the ground. She thought she heard something break, and John screamed.

Bobby sent a flurry of ice at him. It froze his wings to his back, but the creature barely glanced up. He brought a fist back. Angel had seen the force that he'd used to push Piotr into a tree. It was likely that he could crush John's skull.

Angel ran forward and spat fire into the creature's face. The creature stumbled, batting wildly at his face. Angel could see that some of his face had blackened underneath her fire, and for a moment she felt hopeful. Perhaps he could burn after all.

However, when the creature turned again, Angel could see that his face was healing. Her heart sank. He had a healing factor? It wasn't a very good one, but its presence certainly changed the situation somewhat. Already the blackened flesh was only red and raw.

John scrambled away, his arm swinging oddly at his side and his face a mask of pain. Piotr rushed forward and pushed the creature to the ground again, ice flecks flying in the air. Piotr began punching him repeatedly and Angel ran towards the pair, hoping she could do something to help.

The creature pushed Piotr off him and got to his feet. He took to the air again and sped off. Angel looked after him.

"He ran away?" Piotr said.

"He was winning," Bobby said, "Why would he run?"

Angel unfurled her wings. She could feel fear, just like she always had when she was in the Brotherhood. Unlike then though, she had something solid and simple that she was fighting for.

"He's not running away," she said, "He's just moving to the back of the cabin."

* * *

Luna didn't know who any of these people were. She hadn't been at the Institute very long, and she'd been too concentrated on seeing her brother again to think about the other people there. She wanted her mother, brother, father, and aunt. Only her aunt was there though, and she couldn't find her. The girl named Kitty just kept pulling children towards the back. A delicate-looking Asian girl helped usher them out further.

She didn't want to go. Even with her sleep-addled mind, she knew that she didn't want to go. Luna didn't know why she had to keep leaving people behind, why they kept leaving her in the first place. Her mother had left her to go off and fight. Her brother had left her to go find her mother. Now she was the one leaving her aunt, but there didn't seem to be any good reason for her departure.

There was no way that she was leaving though. She knew what it was like to be left behind, and she knew that it never added up to anything good. Luna wanted to tell Kitty that she wasn't going, that she was staying put, but she didn't have time to get the words out. Kitty just grabbed her arm and pushed her forwards. The Asian girl ushered her towards the door before Luna had formed the syllables of protest.

The next thing she knew she was outside. Someone else, she couldn't see who, was leading them further into the woods. All of the students were following in a straight line, giving each other momentum. Luna looked back at the cabin, but she was being pushed by the tide of exiting students.

She looked up at the sky, feeling miserable. Above them the moon glittered. Luna thought she saw someone flying there, and hope rose in her. Maybe it was her aunt. That would make sense. Angel could fly: Luna had seen her do so several times.

On closer inspection she saw that the wings were too big. A feeling of unease filled her. The Asian girl began to move with the students. Luna grabbed her hand. The Asian girl looked down at her, an exasperated expression on her face.

"Miss!" Luna said, pointing to the person in the sky.

The girl's eyes widened. In her spare hand she gathered up a collection of colorful sparks. She stretched her hand out and a flurry of sparks hit the flying thing in the chest. It fell to the ground, but Luna could see that it was getting to its feet.

"Everybody move!" the girl screamed.

She began tugging Luna as the stampede continued. Luna could see another shape in the sky, and she knew that this was her aunt. She wanted to tear herself away from the Asian girl, go to her aunt, but the girl was pulling her too hard.

Luna wished she was strong, like her brother or parents or aunt. She had never wanted to train like Max had. Luna was impressed by her parents, but she had hoped to be a writer when he got older. She didn't want to be a fighter like Max or her parents. She didn't even have a mutation yet.

As the flying thing got up Luna got a good look at it. Her mother had told her not to call things weird once, but the creature there was weird. There was something so wrong about it, something that made her want to run.

The creature got up just as her aunt spat a wad of fire at it. It slumped to the ground and her aunt landed next to it. Luna saw her aunt move a little closer, her lungs sucking in more air as she got ready to spit again.

The creature knocked her aside with one of his wings. Luna saw a gash appear on her aunt's face.

"Angel!" Luna cried.

The creature looked up at her. She felt fear grip her as it got to its feet. It began pushing students aside as it approached her. She saw her aunt getting to her feet, one hand clutching her face. Her aunt began running after the creature.

Next to her the girl sent another wave of sparks at the creature. This time it dodged them and surged closer.

"Get out of here!" the girl said.

Luna looked at the girl, feeling frozen. She looked at the creature and back at the girl.

"I'll be fine!" the girl said.

She let go of Luna's hand and pushed her back. Luna stumbled and began following the other students. She saw the girl tried to gather up more sparks, but the creature backhanded her. The girl was sent to the ground, clutching her shoulder and moaning.

The creature continued tossing students aside, its eyes fixed on her. Someone knocked into Luna. Luna lost her balance and fell. She scraped her knees and chin. She rolled over, seeing the creature come closer.

Luna began to push herself backwards, her feet clogging with dirt. She thought of her mother and father. Unbidden, hot tears began to fill her eyes. She wanted them there. Better yet, she wanted them to wake her up, just like they always did when she had a nightmare.

No one woke her up though. The creature reached out and grabbed her arm. Its grip was cold and it lifted her into the air. Luna cried from the stress it was putting on her arm. She kicked out feebly. All she managed to do was hurt her feet.

The creature looked at her and cocked her head. For a moment she saw something change in its eyes, before the blue crystal on its forehead glowed. The flicker disappeared and its eyes became cold again.

Then it batted its wings and took off into the air, pulling Luna with it.


	38. Chapter 38

August 19, 1992

Angel could feel the cut burning across her face. It hadn't cut deep enough to damage her eye directly, she was lucky in that respect, but blood was pooling in the eyelid. She wiped it away and took off into the sky.

She'd seen the creature take Luna. Angel had no desire to know what he wanted with Luna, and Luna was never going to know either. Her wings felt rusty, and she felt tired, but she knew that she could catch him.

Angel increased her altitude to where she was over the creature. She could see Luna struggling, but his grip was iron. Angel took a deep breath and tucked her wings in, allowing her to drop.

She hit the creature's back in full force. He dropped several feet and Angel wrapped her arms around his neck. She wouldn't be able to hold onto him for very long, but a few seconds was all that she needed.

She spit fire onto the back of his neck. He swatted at her and dropped several more feet. Angel swung to avoid his arm, throwing off his flight pattern. She knew what it was like to have someone disrupt her like this, and she knew that he would be desperately trying to get her off his back.

Angel spat more fire. One of her hands scratched at his face, searching for his eyes. It made her grip tenuous, but she needed to do something to hurt him. When he went to swat at her again she flipped over him and grabbed the arm that was holding Luna. She spit fire onto it, careful not to get any on Luna. He let go of Luna and Angel dived after her.

She unfurled her wings just as her arms wrapped around Luna.

"Angel," Luna whispered, her voice faltering.

"It's okay," Angel said, "I've got you honey, I've got you."

Luna looked behind Angel and screamed. Angel did a barrel roll, feeling something tear into her legs. She glanced behind her and saw that he was on her heels, his metallic wings cutting into her.

She pulled her legs up towards her chest, knowing that it would hurt her flight pattern to do so. Angel wobbled as he dived down further, trying to cut her off. She pulled back at the last minute, feeling the blood still dripping down her legs.

Down below her she could see the cabin. She could still make out some of the students. Piotr, Kitty and Bobby were running along the ground, obviously following her. There wasn't anything that they could do though. Not at this altitude.

The creature circled them. Angel tried to outmaneuver him, but he was too fast. She wished that she had managed to do some more damage to him, but it was all speculative now. She had to figure out how to outrun him.

It was obvious that he was faster than her though. Luna was also slowing her down, making it difficult to outmaneuver him and outpace him. A thought occurred to her, and she clutched Luna tighter.

"Luna, hold onto me, and don't let go," Angel said, "Whatever you do, don't let go."

The creature soared up towards them. Angel furled her wings and allowed herself to go into free fall. She felt Luna burry her face. Angel didn't blame her: she was scared too. Only their combined weight gave them a chance of getting to help though. Angel didn't think that she could fight him by herself for long.

The trees rushed up to greet them. Angel unfurled her wings, allowing them to slow her down a bit. Behind her she heard the flapping of wings. He was close, and she wasn't about to let him catch her when they were so close to the ground.

She tucked her wings in again and they continued to plummet. Piotr waved to her, Kitty and Bobby by his side. Angel unfurled her wings for one last break so they wouldn't hit the ground too hard.

A hand gripped one of her wings and pulled. Angel could feel the delicate flesh tear, and she couldn't stop from screaming. She remembered when, lifetimes ago it seemed, Alex had burned off part of her wing. The pain from that had been too fast, like losing a limb and having it cauterized immediately afterwards, to scream. This felt slower somehow.

She pulled forward though, kicking blindly behind her. She hit the ground hard, trying to shelter Luna. Angel heard something snap in her foot as they tumbled across the ground. With each rotation her foot began to hurt worse and worse. Something hit her heard, a rock perhaps, and her vision began to blur.

They stopped finally. Angel managed to look up and see Luna staring down at her with her wide green eyes. The image of another little girl superimposed itself over Luna. Was it Luna looking down at her with that expression, or was it Lorna on the night her mother had died?

Angel pushed herself up. There was blood coming from her head, and she felt dizzy. Piotr, Kitty, and Bobby were flanking the creature.

"Luna, you have to get out of here," Angel said.

Her words sounded woozy. Luna grabbed her hand.

"Okay," she said, "Let's go."

"No, go without me," Angel said.

Luna shook her head.

"Please," Angel said.

She knew that she was begging now, but it wasn't going to do much good. Angel had to get Luna out of there, but she couldn't fly, and she couldn't walk on that foot. What was she supposed to do?

The creature hit Piotr into another tree. Kitty phased through his arm and Bobby sent ice at his feet. He dodged the ice and punched Bobby to the ground. Angel could see that he was fixated on Luna, for whatever reason.

He ignored Kitty as he advanced. Piotr got back up and ran towards the creature.

"Luna, run!" Angel screamed.

Luna bit her lip.

"Please, please," Angel said.

Hot tears began to flow from her eyes. Luna took a stumbling step back. Good, she understood. Luna gave her one last anguished look before she tore off into the woods. Angel smiled at her retreating form. She was going to make it.

* * *

"Blood smell's getting stronger," Logan said.

Max chewed on his lip. He touched his coat pocket where his mother's old knife was. Every breath felt like he was stabbing himself with that knife. Part of him wished that he hadn't asked Logan what he had smelt, but Max knew that he'd had to. It wasn't in his nature to live in ignorance.

Logan stopped and the claws came out of his hands.

"Everyone stay back!" he hissed.

Max froze. He could hear the sound of a struggle, as well as pounding feet. Remy began pulling out cards, and the Brotherhood began to look into the woods. Max wondered where he fit into all of this. Was he just some bystander that had gotten in over his head? He certainly felt like one.

The branches in front of them shook. Logan snarled. A small, dirty form tripped and tumbled down onto the ground. As soon as she saw Logan her eyes lit up in recognition. Max's own brain stuttered in shock.

"Luna!" he said.

She looked at him, her eyes smeared with tears.

"Max!"

He pushed past Logan and carefully wrapped his arms around his sister. Luna began crying.

"Luna, are you okay?" Max asked.

She nodded.

"Aunt Angel...she's still back there," she said, "There's this thing with wings, he's gonna hurt her Max! He's already hurt her..."

Rogue knelt beside him, one of her hands on his shoulder. Despite the comfort the touch was meant to convey, Max felt like something was pushing him into the ground.

"Luna," Max said, "We're gonna go get her."

"Don't leave!" Luna said, "When people leave they don't...they don't..."

Max swallowed again. He looked at the sky, praying for inspiration. It didn't offer any. He didn't see any help on the faces of the X-men, or the Brotherhood for that matter. Logan, Emma and Remy were looking away. Toad was goggling again.

However, Magneto was giving him another strange look, his eyes filled with something distant. Max looked back down at his sister.

"But I am," he said, "Okay? Just stay here with Rogue."

He looked up at his friend, silently asking permission to honor his suggestion. Rogue was the only one that Luna really knew, the only one she might not be frightened to be alone with. Rogue nodded and Max began to let go of Luna. He put his coat over her shoulders and, using the cloth as a medium, tossled her hair.

"If anything goes wrong, just call for us," Max said.

"We shouldn't leave em alone," Remy said.

"Ah can handle it," Rogue said.

She smiled and knelt by Luna. Luna's eyes were swimming with tears now and Max wondered what had happened to her. He smiled at her before getting up.

"Are we leaving yet?" he asked.

Logan rolled his eyes and charged through the trees. The rest of the Brotherhood followed. Max thought he saw Magneto look back for a moment before following him. Max didn't think about it as he and Remy moved forward. He needed to help his aunt.

It didn't take him long to find his her. Angel was on her feet, although she was clutching a tree for support. Her wing was shredded and there were cuts up and down her legs. Max saw blood dripping from her face from her head.

A few feet away a man with metal wings and blue-gray skin hit Piotr, an older student that Max had seen around, into the ground. His metallic skin was dented, which alarmed Max. He hadn't thought that that was possible.

At once he moved towards his aunt. He wanted to help with the fight, but he couldn't leave Angel like she was. She was injured, and she was family. He'd always been taught that that was the most important thing in the world.

The creature saw them at the far side of the clearing and took off into the sky, zipping around above them.

"Feel like taking that thing down Mags?" Logan snapped.

"I'm trying," Magneto snapped, "It's barely metallic at all! There's some other element in it."

Max reached Angel's side. He saw that her eyes were glazing over a little, her breath heavy.

"Angel?" he asked.

She started, looking at him with fear. Alarmed, Max pulled away. The fear in his aunt's eyes subsided and she seemed to recognize him.

"Max...is...is Luna okay?" she asked.

"She's with Rogue," Max said.

"Good," Angel said.

Her eyes glazed again and Max took a closer look at the gash on her head. She was heavily concussed, and he didn't know just how much of what his aunt was seeing was real, and what was imaginary.

Max put his hand on Angel's shoulder where her sleeve protected her skin.

"Let's get you out of here," he said.

He began to lead her away. She stumbled and Max caught her, careful not to touch her skin. To his dismay he saw that her foot was facing entirely the wrong way. She'd been in battle, and she'd received the brunt of it.

The creature slashed at Logan, different metal feathers flying through the air. Max stared at everything, feeling his heart pounding. He began to leave, taking Angel with him. The creature took off into the sky again. It looked like it was going to dive-bomb the combatants, but it changed direction at the last moment.

It came for them instead.

* * *

Angel had to keep reminding herself that it was Max with her, not a much younger version of his grandfather. She had to remind herself that she wasn't at a convenience store, that Lorna wasn't waiting for her to paint her nails downstairs.

She struggled to focus her eyes. When she did she saw the winged creature fly down towards them. Angel remembered that Max was there, remembered how the thing had come for Luna too. It wanted Lorna's children, her niece and nephew.

Angel pushed Max to the side just as the creature dived. She felt it tackle her, heard the way that hit screamed in rage. She clawed at its face, but one of its wings turned and slashed downwards.

She spit fire, but this time it was involuntary. The creature let go and Angel fell to the ground, her hands over her stomach. She could feel the warmth there, warmth caused by her blood. Her head hit the ground, and once again the images began to swirl.


	39. Chapter 39

August 19, 1992

The Blackbird landed. Scott unbuckled himself and began moving to the back of the plane. David did the same, and Jean bit her lip. She knew why David had been removed from the X-men roster, why he had never made it past the first few years of his training.

Unless there had been a new development, then those problems were still preventing him from taking place in field work.

"You might want to stay behind," she said.

David gave her an even look.

_Jean, I won't argue with any of you in front of the Brotherhood_, David said, _But my parents were in there. I fought at the square. I'm involved in this. I am going to go with you all._

Jean's eyes flickered to Kurt.

_He should stay here though_, David thought, _Him, Sharon, and Amanda._

_David_, no, Jean thought, _No one is contesting your right to be here. We can't just let you onto the field without knowing what's out there though._

She braced herself.

_You're not an X-man_, she thought.

David stared at her for a moment before slowly nodding his head. She could feel his anger simmering beneath the surface, but it needed to be said.

_Alright Jean_, he said, _Alright. If you need back-up, just call me._

He turned his head away, severing their connection. Jean breathed out in relief and got up. Mystique got up, leading the rest of the Brotherhood behind her.

"Aren't they coming?" she asked.

"No," Jean said, "They're non-combatants."

Mystique laughed.

"They didn't look that way at the square," she said.

"That's irrelevant," Scott said.

He gave Jean a slight, grateful look. She inclined her head. They really couldn't have David out on the field without knowing what he was capable. He was too untested, and there were still too many things they didn't know about the other minds held captive within his own.

There were shouts further into the woods. Scott's head shot up.

"Jean, what's nearby?" he asked.

"One of the camping cabins used for field trips," she said.

Scott nodded, picking up his pace.

"Let's get going," he said.

Scott began running. Jean kept pace with him. They stumbled into a clearing, and she saw Rogue crouched there with Luna. Rogue started when they came close and began to get up, but the panic left her eyes when she saw who it was.

Luna, awash in a large coat, ran forward. She grabbed onto Scott's legs. He knelt down and hugged her.

"You okay?" he asked.

She nodded, biting her lip. Scott looked up at Rogue.

"And you?" he asked.

"Ah'm fine," she said, "But the rest are fightin something-"

"Which way?" Scott asked.

She pointed. He gently disconnected his niece, but she shook her head.

"I don't wanna get left behind anymore!" she yelled.

She pushed away from him and took off into the trees.

"Luna!" Scott yelled.

He took off after her. Jean followed, trying to reach out to Luna's mind. She was only ten, and she was running right into a combat zone. What was she thinking? Jean couldn't quite reach her mind: it was too chaotic, too unfocused.

They had to catch her before she ran into the fight though. She wasn't ready to see that.

* * *

Max looked up. Blood sprayed from his aunt's side into his face as she was pushed back. He watched as the blood dribbled down his face. Angel collapsed slowly onto her knees before her head hit the ground. One of her hands moved weakly, but she looked more confused than anything.

"Angel...?" he whispered.

The creature turned to him, his wings moving. Max took a deep breath, looking between it and Angel. Logan was shouting something, even Magneto seemed to be shouting, but he just stared.

That was his aunt on the ground. It hadn't been that long ago that he'd seen her get out of the car, hugged her. He thought of his mother. There was doubt there, doubt that she was alright, but there was also doubt that she was dead. It wasn't much, but it was something.

There was no doubting that his aunt was not alright. Her blood was darkening the ground. He could feel it on his face. Her eyes were fighting for control, and he knew that the concussion, and the blood loss, was weakening her.

His hands clenched into fists as he looked up at the creature. Its hand moved towards him and Max felt a burning behind his eyes. Rage began churning inside of him. It felt so vivid, so real, but it was also holding him in a sort of dreamlike state.

Angel's eyes focused. She grabbed the creature's foot as it advanced. It kicked her away and she gave a weak cry. The cry snapped Max out of his dreamlike state.

"Don't touch her!" he screamed.

The creature turned his head towards Max. Max got to his feet, his breathing harsh.

"Don't you dare," he said.

The creature moved towards him. Max put out his hand. The rage was distorting his vision, but he knew exactly what he was doing. His vision seemed perfect even though it was all wrong. For the first time in his life Max felt aware of everything.

The creature was inches away from him, and Max gritted his teeth. He twisted his fingers. He heard a whine fill the air as the creature's wings contorted in time with his fingers, twisting back and forth.

He had always been taught by his mother that keeping calm was the way to unlock his powers. She had never said anything about rage, about the way that it flowed through him. It was almost as though he was doing coin tricks, one of the first things that he had learned.

The creature stumbled. He could see the pain in its face. Max took a step forward, his hand still out. He lifted his hand slightly and the creature was brought into the air. The wings were part of it, like an arm or a limb.

It was a grim knowledge. If the wings were like limbs then he was going to snap them, watch it writhe in pain like it had made his aunt writhe. It had kicked her while she was on the ground, bleeding and broken, and he was going to give it the same courtesy. He prepared to twist his fingers again.

A scream filled the air and he looked to the side. Luna wasn't looking at him. She was crouched by Angel, sobbing. Angel was brushing her hair out of her face, her eyes still glazed. She was trying to form words, and Max's heart ached, thinking about her.

He felt his grip on the creature falter. He looked at it in horror. Had he really been thinking about torturing it? Shame washed over him as he thought of his mother and his father. They hadn't raised him to be that way, hadn't raised him to use his anger like that.

A sick, choking sensation came to his throat. If Luna's scream hadn't stopped him, would he have actually done it? He didn't know. All he knew was that he had a decision in front of him.

He could kill the creature in front of him like his mother had talked about. He could make that decision. However, it wouldn't be killing on the battlefield. The way things were now, it would be murder.

Max let his fingers falter. Slowly he began twisting the creature's wings around it, hoping to bind it. He couldn't kill it, as much as he wanted to. Not now that he had come back to his senses, now that he knew what it was he would've been doing.

The blue crystal on its forehead began to glow. Blue light flashed and the creature disappeared. Max stared at the air where it had been, wondering just what had happened. Where had it gone?

"Angel..." Luna sobbed.

Max turned away and moved over to his sister. She was still covered in his coat and he put his hands on her shoulders. Angel smiled at the two of them, her eyes glassy.

* * *

Angel wasn't sure what it was that she was seeing anymore. Max and Luna were there, and she wished that Luna would stop crying. Max looked like he was going to cry too. She didn't want that either, but she seemed to have lost the words she wanted to say.

She tried to focus on them. Angel had the feeling that she was dying. Part of her mind was saying fervent prayers. Heaven knew that she had made a lot of bad decisions in her life. She hoped that she'd done enough to atone for them. Somehow Max and Luna's tears made her feel better. She had someone who was crying for her. Most people who'd done what she had in their lives didn't get that.

There were more footsteps.

"We should get a doctor or somethin-"

"Swamp rat, she's too far gone for that."

Angel reached out and touched Max's shoulder. Her hand faltered and slipped down to Luna's face. They were so young. She didn't want them here, didn't want them privy to all of this. Too many childhoods had been damaged by the war she'd been fighting in, by stupid people who couldn't let go. She'd hoped that their childhoods could be preserved. No such luck.

She let her eyes roll up towards the skies. Angel had no idea what that thing that had attacked them was, but she knew that it was a harbinger of worse things. She'd been around enough to know that. Despite her own wishes, Max and Luna were now in the middle of it all.

There were more footsteps. Angel saw Magneto approach, his eyes fixed on her. She had no idea what he was doing here. Maybe he wasn't even real. She focused, but he was still there. Angel swallowed, even though the action was painful.

"Please..." she managed, "Take care...so precious..."

Her hand on Luna's face faltered. Magneto's eyes met hers. He nodded slightly, just enough for her to see. She smiled to herself. He loved them, just like he'd loved Lorna. It had been a love that was full of possession perhaps, and it hadn't been enough for him to hold onto her. It had been love though.

Without anyone else, he was the best person to protect them. Angel didn't really know who the rest of them were. She had vaguely seen Max fighting the creature, and she knew that someone needed to make sure he was put in that position again. Not until he was ready.

Angel wondered where Lorna was. Perhaps she was with the rest of the X-men. It made sense. Besides, she didn't want her to see her like this. She didn't want Max and Luna to see her like this, but she didn't have much of a choice in the matter.

She laid her head further down on the grass, her vision blurring. A pair of green eyes, familiar but distant, looked at her. She managed another smile.

"She's happy Ms. Dane..." Angel whispered, "She's happy..."

* * *

"Angel?" Luna whispered.

Angel stared sightlessly ahead. Max took in a sharp breath, realizing what had happened. Luna realized too because she broke out into sobs, burying her face in Max's shirt. He felt his own tears beginning to flow. This couldn't be happening.

She couldn't be dead. She wasn't supposed to die. He thought of her coming over to babysit them, the first time he'd seen her by their house's fence. Angel hadn't been a soldier, not anymore, she had quit that way of life. She shouldn't have died a soldier's death. There shouldn't have been a need.

From the other side of the clearing he saw his uncle burst through, along with Ororo and Jean. He didn't pay attention to the others: his eyes were fixed on his uncle. He could feel the rage burning inside of him again.

"Where the hell were you?" Max screamed.


	40. Chapter 40

August 19, 1992

Rogue stared at Angel. She'd only ever exchanged a few words with the woman, but now she was lying on the ground, blood seeping from her, her eyes staring glassily forwards. Luna was still on the ground, weeping.

Max was on his feet, his hands clenched and his eyes blazing.

"Well?" he demanded.

Scott looked around. Rogue could see other students coming out of the trees, confused and scared. Rogue vaguely recognized Bobby, John, Piotr, and Kitty. Kitty put her hands over her mouth.

"What?" Max screamed, "You don't have anything to say? Well?"

"Max," Scott said, his voice level, "Now's not the time to-"

"No, now isn't the time!" Max yelled, "Fifteen minutes ago, that was the time! An hour ago was the time! Now..."

His voice choked and his eyes flickered over to Angel.

"Now she's dead," he said, "You...you were supposed to be here! You were supposed to be heroes! You were supposed to be better than this!"

Rogue could hear the hysteria in his voice, but it was blanketed by anger. Something in his tone made her shrink back. Rogue had always seen him so clam, so collected. She wasn't sure who he was at the moment.

"We came as soon as we could-" Scott said.

"Not soon enough!" Max snapped.

He laughed. When he spoke again his voice was at a much lower pitch. Somehow it was a deep timbre, as though his anger had moved past all vestiges of hysteria and grief. It had turned into something else.

"You know what, the only one I've seen do anything this whole damn night is him," Max said.

He pointed at Magneto. Scott's eyes followed Max's finger. Rogue saw him blink before stiffening. His fists clenched and unclenched, his eyes no longer on his nephew. Instead they were on Magneto, as though he were somehow to blame for what was happening.

Something inside Rogue wanted to run away and hide. There was a nightmare just out of her reach surfacing, something that she couldn't quite identify. This was Max though, her friend, the boy who had offered her a family.

She shouldn't be scared of him.

"Do you have any idea how wrong that is?" Max said.

Scott's eyes remained fixed on Magneto. Rogue could see something passing between the two men, some kind of secret communication. Max shook his head and knelt next to his sister. She was still crying, oblivious to all that was happening around her.

Max forced back tears and murmured something to Luna. Rogue saw Bobby walk up to her, his face cut up and bleeding.

"She's...?" he whispered.

Rogue nodded. Bobby put his hand on her shoulder where the coat was. He took a look at the coat, almost as though recognizing it. Rogue didn't pay much attention to him though. Somehow it felt as though he was on the margins of something that she was in the center of.

"She led us," Bobby said, "None of us really knew what to do...was she an X-man?"

She shook her head slowly. She hadn't known much about Max's aunt, but she knew that she wasn't an X-man.

"She used ta be Brotherhood," Rogue said, "She quit years ago."

Bobby looked shocked. His eyes slid back over to Angel. Rogue walked forward so she was standing level with Max. Scott was wisely keeping his distance, his eyes on the ground. The only one who seemed to want to look at the mourning siblings was Magneto.

He had looked away from Scott and was instead watching Max and Luna intently. It was like he was trying to see something, to figure something out. Rogue thought she saw sympathy, but she knew that must have been a trick of the light.

Rogue knelt down next to Max. When she got close she saw that he was crying silently, his whole body shaking.

"Max," she murmured.

Max looked up at her, his hands still tightly clenched around his sister.

"This shouldn't have happened," he said.

"It wasn't their fault," Rogue said.

Max didn't say anything. He looked back at his aunt and tentatively reached forward. He paused a few times before touching his aunt's face. Rogue flinched for a moment, waiting for his power to turn her flesh to metal.

She didn't though. Rogue blinked, but she remembered that Max's powers only worked on living things. He seemed to understand that as he reached out towards Angel's open eyes. He closed her eyes, but they flipped open again. He tried it again, but they wouldn't shut.

"Please..." Max said.

Rogue put her hand on Max's shoulder. He didn't start crying, just let his hand fall away from his aunt's face. Rogue could see the raw loss in his face, remembered his inability to speak about his mother and what had happened to her.

"Yesterday was normal," Max said, "I went to sleep normal."

She nodded, understanding. Everything had been fine the day before. There had been problems, but they had seemed manageable. Now his aunt was dead and his mother was missing. He'd always been so devoted to his family.

She wondered what it was like to have so much to lose.

"We need to move her," Rogue said.

Max nodded.

"I should do it," he said.

"You can't," Rogue said, "You're tired."

She tilted her head towards Luna.

"And your hands are full," she said.

Max clutched Luna tighter. She'd stopped crying now, out of tears. Now she was trying to stop her sobs. Max got to his feet, pulling her up with him. He gave one last, anguished look at Angel, before he started to move away.

He walked towards his uncle, his sister by his side.

"Where's the Blackbird?" he said.

"About five minutes that way," Scott said, "You can't miss it."

Max nodded and began to move again.

"Max-"

"Don't," Max said, "Just don't."

Scott didn't say anything as Max began to walk off towards the Blackbird. Piotr came up and, gently, lifted Angel's body up. Rogue didn't like the way Angel's eyes lolled. She felt sick suddenly: someone she had talked to hours before was dead now.

"Chere?"

Remy crouched next to her.

"Time ta get movin," he said, "We need ta gather da odder students."

She nodded. Remy held out his hand to help her off, but she shrugged him off. He stared after Piotr.

"Remy didn't know her well," Remy said.

"Neither did I," Rogue said.

Remy crossed his arms.

"Max came from good people," he said, "Remy's guessin she was like dat."

"She used ta be Brotherhood," Rogue said.

She didn't want to dampen Angel's memory, but she felt that it needed to be said. It had been a part of Angel, and she had changed her life. Remy understood though. He looked after Angel with faint admiration.

"An Remy used ta be a thief," he said.

Rogue didn't say anything. She'd heard the rumors just like anyone else.

"Ya did good chere," he said.

"He needed someone," Rogue said, "He's going to try to be strong for Luna, and he won't let anyone be strong for him."

"Summers family trait," Remy said.

He cocked his head at Scott and Magneto, who were walking up to each other. Rogue bit her lip. She had no idea what those two were going to talk about.

* * *

"What are you doing?" Scott hissed.

"Helping, of course," Erik said.

He smirked. Scott was struggling to control his temper, and it showed. He wondered when the calm, collected leader of the X-men had turned so volatile. Perhaps it had been when Max had said that Erik had been more help.

Yes, that was something to be smug about. He hadn't been very complimentary afterwards, but he had certainly complimented them in his own, backhanded way. His father, in his best moments, had never done that.

It was promising, it really was. More than promising though, it was opening a new door for him, a door that he didn't think would be present. Perhaps he didn't have to be such a stranger in his grandson's life.

It was a thought that would have to be examined at a different time. There was too much else going on here at the moment. Still, they had a few minutes. It was enough time to put the younger Summers in his place.

"I heard that something was going to happen here," Erik said, "And I sent aide. I suppose that Mystique briefed you?"

He looked past Scott. Mystique was giving him a sour expression. He couldn't imagine that Scott had been easy to deal with. The thought pleased him.

"She did tell you that, didn't she?" he asked.

"I wasn't talking about that," Scott said.

He pointed towards the woods.

"What are you doing near Max and Luna?" he asked.

Erik smiled. So Scott had noticed.

"Nothing," he said, "It appears that he was with a group of students that we met up with. Nothing more."

Scott crossed his arms.

"What did you say to him?" he asked.

"Barely anything," Erik said, "He seems intelligent. He can make his own conclusions."

Scott turned his face into a sneer.

"I know what you're trying to do," he said.

"I don't really need to do anything," Erik said.

He gestured behind him, where the boy with metal skin was finishing bringing Angel's body inside the cabin.

"I wasn't the one who came here too late to provide adequate assistance," he said.

Scott shook his head.

"You're right," he said, "You were here. And that didn't help. You failed to help her and you were actually here. And yet you stand here, smug and unrepentant. What does that make you?"

Erik felt a twinge of anger. He did feel sadness over Angel's death, especially her last words. He didn't suppose that anyone had seen her ask him to protect his grandchildren. He knew for a fact that no one had understood who 'Ms. Dane' was.

The very thought of Susanna was an old wound, one that had never healed. It could never heal, not with what had happened with their daughter. He pursed his lips at Scott, and went for the jugular.

"Max doesn't see it that way," Erik said.

Scott clenched his fists. Erik rather enjoyed getting under his skin.

"Stay away from my nephew. Him and my niece," he said, "You're the one who decided that you didn't want to be part of their lives. I was there when you tossed Lorna aside."

He frowned and looked around.

"Where is she?" Scott asked.

Erik's blood ran cold. He turned his head to the side. Scott was a solider. He was a poor one, but he was a solider. He knew what that meant.

"Do you have it confirmed?" he asked, his voice quiet.

Erik shook his head.

"Good," Scott said, "We'll find her, one way or another."

His level, quiet tone, irritated Erik.

"You're very calm about the possibility of her death," he said.

Scott's jaw twitched.

"And you're very concerned about a woman you casually tossed aside when you found out she didn't want to kill people for no reason," Scott said, "I was there. I know what happened."

Although Erik couldn't see Scott's eyes behind his goggles, he knew that they were narrowing.

"So don't you dare lecture me about my family," Scott said, "And I'm telling you one last time: stay away from Max and Luna."

He turned on his heel and walked towards the Blackbird. Erik stared after him, his feelings churning and bubbling inside him.


	41. Chapter 41

August 19, 1992

"Look at what they did!"

Sinister threw a vial at the wall, shattering it. He liked to pride himself on being a man who didn't lose his temper often, but this was too much.

"They almost broke it!" he said.

There was a muffled curse from the table. Sinister double-checked the restraints. Once he was satisfied he began welding the metal pieces back into shape. They were bent and twisted every which way.

"I didn't expect anything less from a Summers really," he said, "But...well, I didn't think it was metallic enough. I suppose I should just add that to my list of interesting things that family can do."

He finished manipulating the different joints and turned away. He sighed and sank into a chair, his hands folded in his lap. It was going to take more time before the other wing was ready. The young Summers had really done a number on it.

"Like I said, I should have expected it," he said, "It just makes Maximilian more interesting. Of course, Luna's the real prize."

He looked over at the shattered vial. He sighed and grabbed a broom to sweep it up.

"But it was just a test run," Sinister said, "I am getting a little impatient now. As I said before, all of those years were illuminating, but really."

He dumped the glass into a nearby trash can.

"I want to try the others," he said, "While some of the specimens are perfect, the Neyaphem won't work. We'll still need him, but he won't work. Not like that."

He returned to the specimen on the table. Defiant eyes glared back up at him and Sinister chuckled to himself. He pulled out a small remote and turned up the dial. The defiant eyes turned glassy. He'd need it to be sedated before he continued work.

"Which means that we'll need a replacement," he said, reaching for the welding tools, "I trust that a specimen will present itself. The X-men and the Brotherhood are the most unique of all the so-called heroes."

He began working on the other wing.

"There's no shortage of choices," he said.

* * *

David looked over at Remy. He had just finished bandaging some of Piotr's cuts, since Remy had decent first aide skills. Piotr hadn't held anything back in the fight, and as a result he'd been cut up pretty badly.

John had the worst of it though. Jean was just finishing setting up his arm. It was going to need an X-ray later, and possibly a surgery. They didn't have the equipment to do anything like that though. It was doubtful when they would again.

David shook his head and continued setting up one of the tents. Now that the cabin was out, the tents in the Blackbird were the best the of shelter that any of them had. Several of the other X-men were on patrol at the moment, making sure that the students were safe.

From across the way he saw Scott enter the camp. For a moment he thought that Scott was going to go talk to Jean, but instead he began heading for David. David watched him warily as he finished tying up the tent post.

"David?" Scott asked.

"Yeah?" David said.

He wished he could muster up more irritation at the man. He had disregarded him after everything that had happened at the square. However, he knew they were under a lot of stress. He also knew that Angel had died, and what Max had said as a result.

"I want to ask you to keep an eye on something for me," Scott said.

David raised his eyebrows.

"Don't look so surprised," Scott said.

David decided not to comment on that.

"What do you need?" he asked.

"I want you to help make sure Max and Luna don't spend too much time with Magneto," Scott said, "Especially Max. He's upset and angry, and that's not a good thing."

David crossed his arms over his chest.

"Why are you asking me this?" he said.

"Well, I know you know about Lorna and her...parentage," Scott said, "And...well, I know you know why I want them separate. It's the same reason why I'm trying to make sure that Kurt and Mystique don't spend too much time together."

David nodded, but his question still wasn't answered.

"Why are you asking me?" he said.

Scott sighed.

"You think I don't trust you, don't you?" Scott said.

David didn't say anything.

"Listen, David," Scott said, "It's not like that."

_They're scared of us._

"It's never been like that," Scott said, "When we...when I talked to your father, told him that I didn't think you would fit on the team, it wasn't because I thought that you were going to haul off and do something dangerous."

"You were just trying to protect me," David said, "I know. It took a long time for me to figure it out, but I did."

"It was serious though," Scott said.

He ran a hand through his hair.

"Listen, David, your reaction times were off," Scott said, "All you ever need to be to get yourself killed in these situations is a few seconds off. Tonight, more than anything, showed that."

His voice became gloomy.

"But in the simulations you were showing, randomly, that your reaction times were off, Scott said, "We thought that...the voices might be distracting you. It was too much of a liability for the team. We tried to explain that to you but..."

"I wouldn't listen," David finished, "I remember."

He closed his eyes. His memory of that day was a little blurred. The word 'unstable' had stayed in his head: little else had.

"You were both trying to do what was best for me," David said.

Scott gave him a helpless shrug.

"Maybe we didn't communicate it that well," Scott said, "Because you came away thinking something we didn't want you to. More than one thing."

David saw Scott clear his throat.

"I trust you," he said, "I know you're the one in control. You're steadfast, and it's obvious that you've kept up with your training, even though you didn't have any hope of being an X-man. You fought hard in the square, and I won't forget that. I also trust your judgment because, more than any of the others, you're an adult."

He gestured to the rest.

"We have children here, and we have teenagers," he said, "Unlike your brother, and Sharon, you really know what it is to come back from the edge. You triumphed over it, and you're standing here now."

He smiled.

"And that's why I'm trusting you," Scott said,

David closed his eyes again. He could feel a deep knot of tension unfurl within him, something he hadn't even known he'd had.

"I'll keep an eye on it," David said.

Scott nodded and turned away.

"But don't count Kurt and Sharon out," David said, "There's more to them than you think."

"I don't doubt it," Scott said, not looking back.

David cracked his neck, still feeling that knot of tension unfurling. He looked further across the camp. Sharon was on the other side with his brother and Amanda. He could see the three of them talking. It looked welcoming over there, almost as though there was some normality in the situation.

He began to walk over, but paused by the tent where Max and Luna were. The siblings had disappeared inside at the first opportunity, not saying anything to anyone. Whatever had killed their aunt had obviously been aiming for them, and it appeared that it hadn't been human.

_Finally, mutants are back to killing mutants. Leaves less for the rest of us, but it's certainly entertaining. _

_Shut up,_ David thought.

He crossed his arms and looked at the tent thoughtfully. Max wasn't related to him, and they didn't know each other well. He'd felt some sympathy when he'd heard that Lorna had advised him to think about joining the X-men. It made sense, and he'd hoped that Max would take her advice.

That night had been rough for him. Max was a child really, one that had just seen his heroes fail and, as a result, his aunt had died. David had heard that his mother was missing in action. While Lorna would be found again if there was anything to find, Angel would never come back. The failure of an idol had left irreparable damage. David knew what that felt like.

He also knew the bitterness that could cause, the years lost, and the ultimate regret that came with it. David didn't want to discuss things, Scott hadn't made him promise to make sure Max wasn't angry, but something inside him urged him on.

He cursed himself and cleared his throat.

"Max?" he asked.

"What?"

The voice was sharp, but quiet. David winced.

"It's David," David said, "I think we need to talk."

"Not interested."

"I know," David said, "How's your sister?"

It was the only thing he could think to say. He knew that, even in his darkest times, he had cared about Kurt. Max must still care about his sister, and he might want to answer a question about her.

Max fell silent for a moment, and David wondered if he should just leave and be done with it.

"She's sleeping," Max said, "So, physically, I guess she's okay. She did see the mutilated corpse of her aunt though."

"I heard," David said, "I'm sorry."

There was another pause.

"What are you doing here?" Max said.

David sat down outside the tent.

"You asked me once why I wasn't an X-man," David said, "Well, the reason is that, when I was twelve, I got into a sticky situation. To protect myself and my brother, I invaded the minds of three gunmen. I killed them all."

He was surprised at how easy the words came out.

_You murdered us!_

"I accidentally took them into my mind though," David said, "They're still there, saying horrible things, trying to drive me insane on occasion. They messed up my reaction times so badly that it would be too dangerous for me to join the X-men."

Max didn't say anything. David sighed and looked at his hands.

"I blamed my father for not letting me be what I'd wanted to be since I was young," he said, "I blamed him for the voices in my head too, for not saving me and my brother sooner. He'd done what he could, tried his hardest, but he hadn't succeeded. And I hated him for that for a long time."

David looked down at the small scar on his hand where, when he was a child, he'd pledged himself as Kurt's blood brother. The night in the hotel at Boston seemed so long ago, the night when he'd realized that he didn't need to be angry any more.

"But I forgot that, even though we're strong, even though we have different abilities, we're all still human," David said, "We make mistakes, and the world isn't ours to control. We can't be everywhere. I'm at peace with my father now. He knows that and..."

He bit the inside of his cheek. They still didn't know where his parents were.

"I don't know where he is right now," David said, "But he knows I don't hate him anymore. He knows I love him. And...more than that...I know we can be proud of each other."

There was a long silence. David wondered if anything he'd said had sunk in. He got up and looked hard at the tent.

"I don't want to blame him," Max whispered.

Max's voice was choked, and David supposed he was crying.

"I didn't want to blame my father either," David said, "But we're human too. We make the same mistakes."

"Right, right," Max said.

David waited, knowing that, for good or ill, their conversation was about to end.

"Thanks," Max said.

It was his dismissal, and David knew it. He understood.

"Any time," David said.

He put his hands in his pockets and walked away.


	42. Chapter 42

August 19, 1992

Alex could feel the tension in the air. Sean didn't want to acknowledge that Deadpool was in the plane with them, and Terry was staring blankly out the window. Deadpool had put his feet up on the chair in front of him, his stance casual, but Alex could see he was uncomfortable. Every now and then he'd sneak a look at Terry, and in those moments the desperation was plain in his eyes.

It pissed Alex off. He wanted to tell Sean that there were much more important things to do than get angry at the man who had failed to protect Terry. While Alex knew that Deadpool should have helped Terry, and that the loss of her voice was at least partly his fault, the real blame laid with the woman who had sunk her claws into Terry's throat. They could dish out additional blame after they'd taken her down.

Deadpool shouldn't have left. That much was clear. Alex wanted to punch him for that himself, but it was clear that there was at least some guilt there. It wasn't perfect, but it was a good place to start.

Beyond that, Deadpool was a moron. He was a moron for leaving Terry, and he was a double moron for not saying anything now that he had the chance to make things right. Alex wanted to bash his head in for that, although he knew it wouldn't do any good.

He could sympathize the most with Terry. She'd been abandoned by the man she loved in her hour of need. She'd had her throat torn out, her greatest weapon taken from her along with her voice. The fact that she still wanted to get up at all was impressive.

If anyone had the right to complain, it was her, and she wasn't taking it. She had, for lack of a better term, remained silent. There had been no angry notes, no tears, nothing. She had ignored Deadpool, let no feelings be known, and sat there like stone.

It was worrying, but it was her choice. Alex hoped that she was focusing on the mission, that she had distracted herself with that. He felt, rather strongly, that the other two should do the same.

There was, of course, a level of selfishness in it. His wife and two children were at the Institute. Angel was there too. He'd never been close to her, had never fully trusted her, but Lorna had cared about her and thought of her as family. Considering the fact that Alex hadn't had to invite Magneto over to any Thanksgiving dinners, he counted himself lucky that Angel was the only member of the Brotherhood who hung around. She'd taken care of his children, lived nearby, and overall been a good relative. She had, however slowly he'd come to realize it, earned his consideration.

Not knowing what had happened to his family was driving him crazy. He drummed his fingers on the armrest. As soon as he'd figured out that the Institute could be under attack, a million questions went through his mind. Why hadn't Scott called? Scott would know to call. He'd known enough to leave Deadpool behind as a messenger. He should've known to call.

Alex had, in his irritation, attempted to reach him through his cell phone. The call hadn't gone through. He'd tried fifteen more times, on different phones and to different people. He'd tried the X-men, his wife, his son. None of the calls had gone through.

He leaned his head against the window, thinking about what he might find when they arrived at Westchester. It wasn't a good feeling. Still, he tried to rationalize things. Even if, by some odd chance, Westchester had fallen, his family would be alright.

Lorna would have protected Max and Luna. She was the best soldier that he had ever fought alongside. She would fight to the death for her children, but it would never come to that. Angel wouldn't have left his children's side, so she would be fine too. Max was smart for his age, well-trained. He would be able to take care of his sister.

Scott would also be there. He was a capable leader, the only person that Alex could have dreamed of leaving in charge of the X-men. He'd already have an attack plan ready by the time they got there. The problem might have already solved itself. Alex knew there was only a slender chance of that happening, but it was there.

More than that, he could count on everyone at Westchester. They were all family, they all looked after each other. Alex repeated this in his head, letting his forehead press against the cold glass. He could depend on them.

* * *

"Everything alright?" Sharon asked.

She stood outside of the tent as Rahne looked at her hands. They were picking at the blanket, an absent gesture. She'd found her friend with ease once they had set up camp. Rahne had gotten out of the Institute quickly, but it hadn't stopped her from seeing some of the worse things that the night had had to offer.

Sharon was glad that she'd found her. It was obvious that the night was bringing up some painful memories.

"That woman with the wings," Rahne said, "She's dead, isn't she?"

Sharon nodded.

"I thought so," Rahne said, "I could smell it."

She put one of her hands in front of her face.

"I've never smelt death before," she said.

"I know," Sharon said.

She closed her eyes.

"It...it's impossible to describe," Sharon said.

She opened her eyes again and Rahne looked out of her tent.

"I don't want them to come again," she said, "I don't want to smell that. Ever."

"Me neither," Sharon said.

Rahne leaned back, her head on her pillow.

"Those people, who attacked the school," she said, "Who were they?"

Sharon sighed.

"We're not exactly sure," she said, "At least I'm not. The X-men might know more."

Rahne stared at the ceiling.

"Would your parents know?" she asked.

Her parents. Sharon felt a pang inside her heart. If everything had gone according to plan she would be at home right now. No one would have died. Instead, she would be in her living room, telling her parents that she was with David now.

It had been an alternate future, one that she had wanted very much. She hadn't known just how much she'd wanted it until the possibility of it had been snatched away. It left her feeling sick, as though something had been stolen from her.

"I don't know if they even know where we are," Sharon said, "I heard that cell phone service is down."

Rahne bit her lip. She turned her head so she was staring at the wall.

"Sharon?" she asked, "Can I ask you another question?"

"Sure," Sharon said.

"You smelt a lot like David when you came back," Rahne said.

Sharon blushed. She couldn't believe, in the middle of everything, she could still find it in her to blush about something like this.

"He was...I...we're together now," Sharon said, "But we haven't...um..."

Rahne laughed. Her friend's eyes met hers, and, for the first time, there was something normal in her face. It felt like they were back at the Institute, talking about random things over soda.

"I'd have been able to smell that you know," Rahne said.

Sharon felt her face flame even more. Rahne laughed again stretched.

"Your secret's safe with me, if it's a secret," she said, "But I'm glad that David isn't a moron."

"Me too," Sharon said, "And it's not exactly a secret, although my parents don't really know about it. I was going to tell them...but...you know."

Rahne nodded. Her smile began to slip and she frowned at the ceiling of the tent.

"Sharon, take care of yourself," Rahne said.

"I'll do my best," Sharon said.

"No, take care of yourself," Rahne said.

Her tone was serious. Sharon frowned and Rahne pursed her lips.

"David...him and his brother...one way or another I think that they might get into the center of things," she said, "And, well, I know you won't abandon them. You'll stand with them: it's who you are. Just don't hurt yourself when you do."

Sharon tucked some of her hair behind her ear, thinking through her friend's words.

"I'll try," Sharon said.

"Good enough," Rahne said.

She yawned.

"You get some sleep now," Sharon said, "I'm going to go-"

"Hang out with your boyfriend," Rahne said, "Got it."

Sharon smiled and got up.

"Night Rahne," she said.

"Night," Rahne said.

Sharon zipped up the door to the tent. Across from her she saw that Kurt was sitting next to Amanda. Amanda was speaking in a low voice, but Kurt didn't seem upset. He just seemed concerned, and she figured that was alright. Amanda had been through a lot.

She still didn't know what had possessed her to give Amanda an abbreviated version of the X-men's history. She had left certain details out, of course she had, but she had still told Amanda quite a bit. It appeared that it had given her strength though, so it couldn't be such a bad thing.

Sharon ran a hand through her hair. She sniffed the air and saw David coming up from the other side of the camp. He looked deep in thought, but his face seemed to lighten a little when he saw her.

Her own heart lifted at that thought. Not too long ago she would have traded almost anything to have him look at her like that. Now it was happening. They had kissed, he had told her how he felt about her, had invited her into his night had been a terrible nightmare, but there were still some things she could take comfort from.

As David approached his face changed. His head turned towards the left and his eyes narrowed. Sharon raised her eyebrows and sniffed the air. Her nose wrinkled and David crossed his arms, still staring into the shadows.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

Mystique stepped into the light, looking bored.

"Patrolling," she said, "What else?"

"This area's secure," David said.

Mystique rolled her eyes before walking away. David watched her go. Only when she had disappeared did some of the tension leave his face. He directed his tension back to Sharon and continued his trip.

"What was up with that?" Sharon asked.

"I don't want her hanging around," David said.

Sharon looked after Mystique.

"I know she's your aunt," she said, her voice quiet, "You don't have to hate her because of what happened between her and your father."

David gave her a long look, as if debating something. In the end he just shrugged.

"I can't bring myself to trust her either," he said.

He pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Tired?" Sharon asked.

"I could ask you the same," David said.

He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. Sharon felt him tilt his head as he buried his face in her hair. She leaned into his touch and held him back. As pleasant as it was, she had the feeling that something was wrong.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Fine," he said, "I was just...rehashing the past."

He loosened his grip.

"We should probably get some shut eye," he said.

"Probably," Sharon agreed.

David hesitated. He looked around them.

"I don't suppose that you'd..." he said.

"What?" Sharon asked.

He smiled nervously.

"I'd like to keep you near me," he said, "And we don't have as many tents as we'd like..."

Sharon blushed. She was doing that quite a bit that night. David did the same, rubbing his neck. She'd never seen him look so vulnerable, and it almost broke her heart.

"I just want you near me," he said.

"It's okay," Sharon said.

She took his hand and tilted her head towards Kurt and Amanda. Amanda was nearly asleep, her head on Kurt's arm.

"I think that we all want people we care about near us tonight," she said.

David smiled and leaned in. He kissed her softly before hugging her again.

"Yeah," he said.


	43. Chapter 43

August 19, 1992

Scott rubbed his forehead, feeling tired. He wished that he could get some sleep, but he knew that it was going to be highly unlikely. His nerves were too on edge, and there was too much to think about.

They had absolutely no communication with the Institute. They didn't have communication with anyone outside the Institute either. Scott had wondered if cell phones, or just phones in general, would work when they got there. It was a classic tactic: cut off your enemy's means of communication. He was glad he'd left Deadpool behind to talk to Sean. At least now he knew that, someone, somewhere, would know what was going on with them.

The Brotherhood's presence was troubling. Scott had never teamed up with them, and for good reason. They'd had something of a working relationship before Lorna had left them, if it could be called that. However, after she had switched sides and they'd cast her out, it had all become so much more personal.

He'd never wanted to work with them. They had injured too many of his friends. He'd forced himself to, when he was younger, but that had been before Lorna. He'd seen the callous way that her father had thrown her aside after her courageous attempts to talk to him. The Brotherhood didn't really care for its own. Any affection or care that Magneto displayed was just that: a display. Scott didn't want to work with people like that.

There was so much to think about. One thing that he didn't want to think about was the pure hate that had showed in Max's eyes when he'd spoken to him last. He'd always known his nephew to be a quiet, contemplative boy. He'd never seen him lose his temper like that.

Then again, Alex had never held back his feelings, and Lorna was passionate as well. Scott tried to rationalize it like that, that his flare-up could be traced back to his parents. Not his grandfather. Never him.

At one point they were going to have to tell him. Lorna'd had a quiet word with Scott about Max's desire to join the X-men in case Max tried to talk to him about it. It wasn't his place to tell Max who his grandfather was: that unpleasant duty rested solely with Lorna and Alex. He didn't envy them.

Now Angel had died. Scott had never felt truly comfortable around Angel. There was too much history. Alex had told Scott early on that they had to be civil to the only member of Lorna's family who would still talk to her. As a result Angel had died to protect his nephew.

Lorna was also still missing. Remy had given him a quick rundown and, with every second, he felt his heart sink. He knew what 'missing in action' meant perfectly well. He thought of his sister-in-law, wondering if Sinister had decided to kill or experiment on her. There was a slender hope that she had escaped, that she was looking for them even now, but it was slender.

It was too much to think about. Scott wanted to go find Jean and talk to her about what was troubling him. Surely they could figure something out. At the moment she was busy though, trying to patch up the children who were hurt. They would have to get them out of the area before things really went down.

No matter what had already happened, Scott got the feeling that Sinister was just warming up. He'd been incarcerated for twenty years, and that did things to people's heads. Not that Sinister had ever been a picture of sanity.

He really did need to go find Jean. While he trusted Ororo, Jean was his rock. He needed to get it all out, to stop thinking for a few seconds. It would be better if he could just stop thinking for a little while.

"Uncle Scott?"

Max was standing in front of him, looking nervous and bedraggled. Scott could see that he had been crying. His eyes were rimmed with red and he looked bedraggled. Scott swallowed and sat up straighter.

"Hey Max," he said.

He looked around him, trying to figure out something to say.

"Where's Luna?" Scott said.

"Sleeping," Max said, sitting next to him, "Jean's with her now."

Scott nodded and looked down. Max shuffled a bit.

"I'm sorry," Max said, "I...what I said, it wasn't fair."

Scott closed his eyes and bowed his head.

"I didn't...I wanted you all to be there," he said, "And when you weren't and she...she died for me. Not anyone else, me. She was trying to protect me and I couldn't protect her and I thought..."

Max cleared his throat. Scott waited for him to finish.

"I thought that if you'd been there earlier she would've been safe," he said.

"If we'd been there she would've been," Scott said.

Max looked up, staring at him.

"Max, a lot of what you said was justified tonight," he said, "We were supposed to be here. Instead we were following a lead which, in all likelihood, was just a distraction to get us up there. I didn't do my job well enough and Angel died. That's all there is to the story."

His nephew didn't say anything. Scott leaned back, still waiting. He knew that it wasn't his turn to speak.

"You did the best you could," Max said.

"My best wasn't good enough," Scott said, "I can't be everywhere, and I will always regret that. I will regret tonight, for several reasons. I wasn't at the Institute when it was attacked. Our students were thrown out into the woods, left to fend for themselves."

"You were in Boston," Max said.

Scott laughed.

"Max, what changed your mind?" he asked.

"Actually thinking about things," Max said.

He waved his hand, gesturing around them.

"Magneto was around more tonight than you were," Max said, "And...that's bad. I mean, he cared more than I thought he would."

"Don't count on that," Scott said, "He has an odd habit of caring until you need to cash in."

He hoped that Max would take his words of caution to heart. Max sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Scott noticed how careful his movements were. He was still so scared of his own skin, of his midas touch.

"I guess," Max said, "I mean, I've heard the stories but...never mind. What's important is that you all were fighting and that's why you couldn't come. You tried. You really did. There was nothing you could do."

Scott smiled, but the smile was bitter.

"Max, I know that," he said, "But that's one of the things leadership does to you. You will blame yourself for things you can't change. Even when there's a mistake that doesn't cause any harm, I will always still blame myself."

Max frowned and Scott shrugged.

"Few years back, I was around your age, your father let me lead what we thought was a routine mission," Scott said, "I screwed it up. The Brotherhood cornered me and your father. He gave me the information they were after, sent me on ahead, and told me not to look back. He got captured: I got away."

His nephew continued to look at him, no doubt entranced at the idea of his powerful father being captured. Scott was fairly sure he'd never heard this story before.

"We looked and looked for him, but we couldn't find him," Scott said, "Turns out he escaped and got back to the Institute. He wasn't hurt beyond a few bruises. He could take care of himself. Nothing had happened."

He shrugged.

"But I blame myself for it," Scott said, "Because I could have done things better, fifteen or not. If I'd kept a cool head or just done something, well, I wouldn't be relating this particular story."

Scott turned to Max.

"That's part of being a leader though," he said, "We have to think about every single situation, what can be done for it. I have to shoulder the blame but learn from it. I'm never going to forget tonight, and I'm going to try to learn from it, as cold as that sounds. I'll keep trying to make sure this never happens again, but if it does, then it will be my fault again."

He put his hand on his shoulder.

"It's what makes us different from The Brotherhood," Scott said, "Caring so much. We respect the team, respect each individual life on it even if we don't get along with them. We're a family. A real one."

This time the silence lasted a lot longer than the others. Scott waited, hoping that his nephew understood.

"I think they care too," Max said.

Scott just shrugged again.

"Maybe," he said, "but not like that. We'll never leave someone behind and, whether you see it or not, we will always mourn those we lost."

Max wiped a few tears from his eyes.

"Looks like it takes a lot to be an X-man," he said.

"It does," Scott said, "But I can tell you that there's no other path I'd have rather taken."

Max nodded, his arms crossing over his knees.

"I think you can forgive yourself though," Max said, "Keep the memories, but forgive yourself."

Scott threw his head back and laughed. His nephew seemed surprised, but his laughter was genuine.

"That's what your father's been telling me for years," Scott said.

He patted Max on the back.

"You're a lot like him, you know," Scott said.

"I'm proud of it," Max said.

He looked down at his hands. As he did Scott heard some slight movement. He swiveled his eyes a little in its direction until he found its source. Once he did Scott stiffened, but he didn't say anything.

"Scott...do you have any...?" Max asked.

"I'm ahead of you," Scott said.

From his pocket he pulled out two pairs of long gloves. They'd been among some of the spare parts from the Blackbird. Max took them gratefully and began to put them on. Once he was finished he crossed his arms over his knees again.

"I'll give the other pair to Rogue," Max said.

"I was just about to suggest that," Scott said.

Max got up, his footsteps shaky. He looked down at the gloves again.

"Thanks for understanding," Max said.

"I try," Scott said.

His nephew smiled as he walked away. Scott watched him go for a few minutes.

"He does remind me of his father. Makes him stubborn, but it gives him strength too," Scott said, "He's got a lot of his mother in him too. She's always been pretty smart."

He turned his head so he was looking in Magneto's direction.

"Not that you'd know anything about that," he said.

Magneto's jaw twitched. Scott had no idea just how long he'd been waiting there.

"Come to talk about strategy?" Scott asked.

"Of course," Magneto said.

He looked after Max.

"The boy has a temper on him, doesn't he?" Magneto said, "Quite powerful too. You didn't see the display earlier but, well, you did come late."

That wasn't going to go by. Scott had the reputation for being the nice Summers, the one you could talk to. Not when it came to something like this. Losing his temper wasn't something he did often, but he was past his breaking point.

He laughed softly.

"I want to tell you something right now, in case you didn't hear me earlier," Scott said, "I consider myself a reasonable man, one who has been fighting you and your kind for far, far too long. I've seen what you do to people when they don't serve your purpose anymore. You discard them like they're candy wrappers."

Scott put his hands on his lap.

"So if you even think about involving Max or Luna in whatever screwed up things you're planning on, then Sinister or no Sinister, Professor or no Professor, then you won't even have to worry about Alex coming after you," Scott said, "I'll take you down myself."

Magneto raised his eyebrows.

"You couldn't bring yourself to do it at Staten," Magneto said, "I highly doubt you could bring yourself to do it in cold blood."

"You have no idea what I'm capable of when it comes to my family," Scott said.

He narrowed his eyes.

"No idea," he said, "So if you understand that, then maybe we can work together."


	44. Chapter 44

August 19, 1992

"We're missing a few," Emma said.

Jean pulled her coat closer. It seemed colder around them for some reason.

"We have Gambit on patrol, along with some of our more advanced students," Jean said, "I know you have Boom-Boom out there too."

Emma nodded, looking placated. Scott cleared his throat.

"The first thing that we need to do is figure out a way to get the students out," he said.

Mystique rolled her eyes. Jean could see that she was in a foul mood, but then again, Magneto was as well. He was looking at Scott like he'd enjoy nothing more than crushing him. He was holding himself back though, and it comforted Jean. For the moment.

"We need to launch a counter attack," Emma said, "We can worry about your kindergartners later."

Scott glared at her and Emma gave a theatric sigh.

"The camp is fairly stable, and we can't spare anybody to move them," Emma said.

She tossed her hair.

"You should know that," Emma said.

"They're still children," Ororo said, "We're not getting them involved in this."

"They're already involved," Mystique said.

"More involved then," Ororo said.

"That's pretty rich, coming from you," Lance said, "You became an X-man when you were, what, fifteen?"

"Sixteen," Ororo said, "And that was to help me with my rage issues."

Her voice was low and threatening. From across the small group Logan raised his eyebrows. He'd never seen Ororo in her full rage, and Ororo's nerves were already stretched tight due to Warren's death. In some way Jean pitied him. There was just so much that he didn't know about the X-men.

"Moving on," Scott said, "We can't have them here. It's dangerous for them, and it's a major liability for us. In those terms, does it make more sense?"

"Not really," Mystique said, "If Sinister had wanted to use these as specimens, then he would have taken them already or put a little more effort into finding them."

Magneto remained silent, looking over them. Scott seemed to be ignoring him, and Jean wondered why he wasn't saying anything. It was almost as though he were trying to figure something out. That didn't bode well.

"Come on, where would you even put them all?" Emma said, "It's not like there's a place where they can go. It's already been proven that your grounds aren't safe."

"We might be able to help with that."

Jean's head whipped around. She knew those voices. Remy walked up, followed closely by Calvin and Clarice. They looked different from the last time that she had seen them. Calvin had allowed his beard to grow in a bit more, and Clarice's hair was much longer. She'd always kept it short as an X-man, always knowing that she was going to have to go into battle soon.

Now it had to be held back in a ponytail. However, Jean could see that her quiver was full of crystals. She was wearing clothing that allowed for freedom of movement. Both Clarice and Calvin looked prepared to go back into the war zone.

"We can take it from here," Calvin said.

He clapped his hand on Remy's back. Remy winced at the gesture, and Jean sympathized. Calvin had always put a little too much enthusiasm in his gestures. Remy had, she was sure, only heard about the Rankins through stories and photos of past X-men.

Nonetheless, Remy tilted his head at Calvin and Clarice before walking away. She was sure that he wanted to stay. He threw a curious look over his shoulder at the strategy meeting before getting back to patrolling. He knew when he needed to get back to work.

Scott walked up and grabbed Calvin's hand. The two of them had always been such good friends, ever since Calvin had roomed with him when they were all still in high school. It seemed like such a long time ago.

"How'd you two get here so fast?" Scott asked.

"Well, Banshee called. He's on his way down here now, along with Siryn, Havok, and Deadpool," Calvin said, "He said Sinister had escaped, and there was some sort of emergency."

Calvin looked past Scott and saw the Brotherhood.

"I see he was right," he said.

"The Institute's been attacked," Scott said, "The Professor, Moira, and Polaris are missing."

Calvin's eyes widened. Clarice crossed her arms across her chest, looking thoughtful.

"How did you find us?" Scott asked.

Calvin grinned.

"It wasn't easy," he said, "But we figured you guys might've gone to the Biology cabin if something had happened at the Institute. We saw that someone had been there, and then we just tracked you to the next closest emergency site."

There was a long silence. Jean could see that they didn't know what had happened there. They had been able to clean it up pretty well. Calvin's grin began to slip. Clarice brushed her hand against his and stepped forward.

"However, you're right, we got here pretty quickly," Clarice said.

She picked up one of her crystals and turned it over in her hand.

"You seem to have forgotten my talent," she said.

She jerked her head towards the camp.

"And I think that it will work well in this situation," she said, "I don't have the energy to take them back to our facility in Florida, but I think that I can make it to Washington. I believe that they will be safe there."

She patted her quiver of crystals.

"Besides," Clarice said, "we talked to Hank on the way up here. He's quite worried about his daughter. She was supposed to be at home by now."

Scott smiled, although the expression was strained.

"They got sidetracked in Boston," he said, "She's fine."

"I'd imagine so," Clarice said, "But I think that we can get the students out in shifts. She should be one of the firsts."

"You'd have a hard time arguing that," Scott said, "But I know you. There are a lot of students here. It's going to be difficult to teleport them all out."

Clarice nodded, but she didn't look deterred. Calvin began to grin again, and Jean could see that they had discussed it. He held out his hand and a pink crystal started to form there. It took a while, but in the end he held a crystal similar to Clarice's.

"We'll do it in shifts, one after the other," he said, "She'll go and I'll rest, and then she'll rest and I'll go. And as for the time factor."

His grin broadened.

"Is Kurt around?" he asked.

"Yes," Scott said.

"Kurt?" Magneto said.

Jean froze. She'd almost forgotten that the Brotherhood was there.

"Yes," Scott said.

His tone was wary. Jean swallowed. Magneto had never seen Kurt. None of the Brotherhood had before the fight in the square. Boom-Boom and Lance had obviously not recognized the similarities between him and Mystique. They had been after Azazel though, so it was possible that they didn't know.

However, the rest would. It would probably only take them seconds to realize the resemblance. She could tell that Scott was thinking about this. Calvin was looking as though he wished he hadn't said anything. Clarice's face was impassive, her old poker face still in place. Ororo looked a little tense though, and Jean knew she was the same.

"The Professor's younger son," Scott said, "He's a teleporter."

Magneto shrugged.

"It occurs to me that this information might have been useful earlier," he said.

"He's a non-combatant," Scott said, "Him, David, Sharon, and Amanda."

His tone was dismissive as he turned to Calvin, like it didn't matter what Kurt could do. Being a teleporter wasn't a giveaway in and of itself. They just needed to make sure that Kurt didn't run into any members of the Brotherhood now. Jean doubted that he was ready for what that would bring.

"I don't think he can get a lot of people to Washington," Scott said.

"Maybe only a few at a time," Calvin said, "But I won't be able to take as many people as Clarice. I can't run at her level of finesse."

He winked at her before he continued.

"But something is better than nothing, right?"

"Right," Scott said, "You should start immediately."

He squinted into the distance where the sun was just starting to come up.

"We don't know how much time we have left before Sinister makes another move," Scott said.

* * *

Charles woke up, his vision blurry. He blinked a few times to clear it. Charles tried to rub his forehead, but he found that something had been put around his head. He tried to take it off, but he couldn't.

He tried to get a better look at his surroundings. He'd been taken out of his wheelchair, although he had no idea why. The lighting was dim, but he could make out that there was someone else in the room. They'd been tossed carelessly onto the floor, and they looked limp.

Charles focused his eyes in the dim light.

"Moira?" he managed.

There was no response. He dragged himself next to her. Her breathing was shallow, but he was breathing. He pulled her into her arms and began checking her for any signs of injury. Beyond a few nasty-looking bruises she seemed fine.

A light switched on from the other side of the room. One of the walls was made of a type of glass, which led into another room. Sinister walked into it and paused next to the glass. Charles saw him press his fingers to the glass. Sinister tapped them against it for a bit, regarding him.

"Don't worry. There's no sense in hurting her," Sinister said, "Not yet."

His words made an old anger flare up.

"You saw what I did the last time you tried to take her from me," Charles said.

"Yes, I did," Sinister said, "Which is why I got that lovely little headband. It was designed for a Colonel that some of my agents were shadowing. He was trying to wipe out all mutants."

Sinister laughed.

"Well, I couldn't let him do that, now could I?" Sinister said, "Still, it hardly matters. Not in light of everything that's been happening. Everything that's going to happen."

Sinister took his hands away from the pane of glass.

"I've read your papers," Sinister said, "You're a clever man Xavier. You know what direction evolution is pushing us in. It wants us to go forwards, not backwards. It's given people remarkable abilities to survive, and yet you talk about peaceful integration. People are too foolish to let such a thing happen."

He gestured towards Moira.

"There are exceptions," Sinister said, "But life is imperfect. Now then, I believe you met my friend at the Institute?"

How could he forget?

"Who was that?" Charles asked.

"Immaterial," Sinister said, "But he told me that he sees human-mutant relationships as modern myths. Like Greek gods having affairs with mortals and conceiving the heroes of old. Very poetic."

He leaned against the opposite wall.

"I think of second generation mutants as another stage of evolutionary perfection," he said, "It's beautiful, but it doesn't always create the strongest mutants."

Charles held Moira closer.

"If you're so occupied with mutants," he said, "Let her go and keep me. She's just a human. She doesn't matter to you."

Sinister laughed, pounding one of his fists against the glass.

"Very funny Xavier," he said, "But holding her means I hold you here as well. Besides..."

He smiled.

"She has her part to play too."


	45. Chapter 45

August 19, 1992

David took a deep breath. He wished that he could get to sleep, but it felt impossible to relax. There was too much that had happened that night. Too much had changed, and it had happened far too fast. It felt like fireworks had gone off in his head, leaving sparks in their wake.

Next to him Sharon shifted. David smiled and adjusted his hand on her arm. Some of her hair was tickling his cheek, and it felt soothing. She'd had no problem getting to sleep. Then again, she wasn't worried about the same things that he was.

She didn't know that his brother's biological mother was back in his life. She wasn't worried about that. Sharon hadn't just heard that, despite everything he'd believed, he was considered trustworthy by the X-men. It was just more confirmation that the only one who'd seen him as damaged and broken was himself. He envied her that.

Sharon moved again, cuddling in closer to him. David smiled. He wondered just when she'd become so important to him. How had things changed so much since he'd first really seen her, a little girl with white hair hiding under a bed? They had slowly built a friendship as children, something that had turned deeper with each passing year. Perhaps it was inevitable that the two of them would end up together.

His talk with his father had brought some things into clarity. If he'd talked to him sooner, than maybe he would have been with Sharon longer. It was strange to think of his father as being like him, a young man with horrible insecurities. He'd found a way around them though, found the courage to marry his mother and try to begin life again.

In his own way, David was trying to begin his life again. He was trying to change things, to not be that bitter child anymore. He knew that twenty-two was young to start talking about beginning again, but he had to begin somewhere. He'd needed to restart things for awhile.

_David?_

He closed his eyes.

_Jean, what is it?_

_We're going to go back to the Institute_, Jean thought, _We need you to oversee the evacuation. _

_Where to?_ David thought.

_Washington. More specifically, Hank_, Jean thought, _Calvin and Clarice are here. With Kurt's help they might be able to get most of the students out of here fairly soon._

David rubbed his forehead.

_And you're leaving me in charge of that?_ he asked.

_You're the best candidate_, Jean said, _We're going to need someone to make sure that everything's okay. We're going to leave Remy with you in case they attack again. _

_I can't imagine that he's happy about that_, David thought.

_He isn't_, Jean thought, _But we need someone here in case something happens. Alex, Sean, Terry, and Deadpool should be down here pretty soon. We need someone to help coordinate them when they do. _

_Got it, _David thought.

He let out a slow breath.

_Jean?_

_Yes?_

_I know I don't really need to tell you this but...find my parents, okay?_ David asked.

_Of course._

He got up. Sharon opened her eyes as David sat up.

"Something wrong?" she asked.

"Not really," he said, "They're evacuating the students to your dad's. Clarice and Calvin are here, so they have a good shot at getting it done soon."

He yawned and stretched. A thought occurred to David and he laughed.

"You're probably going to be in the first group to go home," he said.

Sharon rolled her eyes.

"I'm one of the most mature people here," she said, "You can't do this alone."

"No, we can't," David said.

He grabbed his coat and put it on.

"I'd better wake up Kurt," he said, "They'll need him too. I hope he's had enough rest. They'll need him to do some of the teleporting. He did just finish marathoning his way down to Boston."

"Do you think he can get to Washington and back with several people?" Sharon asked.

She sounded skeptical. David didn't blame her. He was too.

"No," David said, "I think he can get himself to Washington along with several people though. Then he can stay there."

Sharon smiled.

"You really don't think he can take care of himself out here, do you?" she asked, "After the battle in the square?"

"He can take care of himself physically," David said, "I know that much."

"But not mentally?" Sharon asked.

David paused. Sharon sat next to him and wrapped her arm around his shoulder.

"Kurt's pretty strong," she said.

"I know," David said.

"Then what are you worried about?" Sharon asked.

He bit his lip. He wanted to tell her the truth about Kurt. He knew she knew that Kurt was adopted. Sharon had never looked through the Brotherhood dossier though. There had never been any need. She'd never wanted to be an X-man.

It was good that she didn't. She was tough. She'd been tough ever since she was a little girl running around in overalls. Yet, he understood that she was going to be better at being a politician than she would at being an X-man.

The same thing had happened to her father. He'd been a good X-man, but a fantastic doctor and a man who had done a lot for Mutant Rights. His destiny lay beyond the X-men in doing things that were more important to the mutant cause than being a soldier for it. The same had been true for Warren.

They had progressed to the point where they didn't all need to be soldiers anymore. Sharon was a good fighter, she had natural talent and he'd seen that, but she was better at being who she was: a clever, politically aware, brave woman.

So she didn't know. She didn't know about the time David had gone down and found his brother in tears, how he'd cut open their hands and declared them blood brothers. He had never told her about that, never told anyone.

More than that, Kurt didn't know that Mystique was his biological mother. The less people who knew about Kurt's background, the better. Kurt had chosen not to investigate his biological parents. He had chosen to simply call himself Charles and Moira's son. That desire should be respected.

The fact that it lined up with David's wishes for Kurt to be nothing more than his brother was an added bonus.

"David?"

He snapped back to the present. David smiled and kissed Sharon's cheek. He settled for a half-truth.

"I'll always worry about him," David said, "He's my brother."

* * *

"Are you holding up okay?" Kurt asked.

Amanda nodded, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Better than I expected anyway," she said.

Kurt smiled. They'd both napped for a while, but it had seemed so confining inside of the tent. The two of them had gone outside for some fresh air. They'd settled on one of the trees near one of the patrol points. It was safe enough, and Kurt could always teleport them away if something happened.

"You've been...really understanding," Kurt said.

Amanda shrugged.

"It's not like I could do much else," she said, "I didn't have a choice really."

"Yes, you did," Kurt said.

He clasped his hand around her wrist. Amanda kissed him on the side of his jaw.

"Not if I wanted to keep you," she said.

Kurt blushed, but wrapped his tail around her waist. He wanted to keep her close. They'd had a couple of close calls in the square. Amanda leaned her head back.

"You grew up around here?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said, "I grew up in the Institute itself, but that's kind of far from here."

It had also been invaded by a mad scientist. He wished he could show Amanda what it had been like before that. He might get a chance when things had calmed down a bit. He hoped so. It had been a sanctuary for so many years.

"I played around here though," Kurt said, "This land's been in my family for several generations."

Amanda nodded and looked around.

"It's pretty," she said.

She looked up.

"I spent a lot of my childhood moving in cities," she said, "You don't get to see the stars there like you do in the country. It's beautiful."

From their left they heard heavy footsteps. Kurt saw Remy coming up to them, his head bowed and his teeth gritted together. He glanced at the two of them before leaning up against a tree.

"Dis be a patrol point," he said, "Ya might wanna scat."

His voice was sharp and angry.

"Remy, is something wrong?" Kurt asked.

"Nuthin's wrong," Remy said.

"Remy, whatever it is, it's okay," Kurt said.

Remy snorted and hit the ground with his bo staff.

"Yeah, it be okay," Remy said, "Dey just leave Remy here when dey could use all da people dey can get."

"What do you mean?" Kurt asked.

Remy snorted again.

"Da X-man are gonna start evacuating da students," he said, "An Remy has ta stay behind ta help."

Kurt unwound his tail and arms from Amanda.

"How are they planning on doing that?" he asked.

"Rankins are here," Remy said, "Gonna start teleportin people out."

"I should help with that," Kurt said.

"You got exhausted after you went to Boston," Amanda said, "I highly doubt you're in any position to do too much more."

Remy raised his eyebrows. Kurt gave him a sheepish look. Remy rolled his eyes.

"Never mind," he said, "Well, dey did wantcha ta help. More dan dey wanted Remy ta do."

"You can't take it that way," Kurt said.

"How else?" Remy said, "Apparently Remy still ain't good enough for da X-men."

Kurt wanted to tell Remy that he was wrong, that Scott valued him. He wasn't sure how to tell him without sounding pitying though. As he sought something to say there were footsteps. He saw Boom-Boom come up, along with some other members of the Brotherhood.

"Hey, we should start coordinating how we want to do this," Boom-Boom said.

Toad stood next to her, looking casually at Remy. After a moment he saw Kurt. His eyes bulged and his mouth opened.

"Zaz?" he said.

Kurt frowned and got up. Amanda got up next to him, looking warily at the Brotherhood. He'd given her a brief overview of who they were. She'd already known a bit about Magneto from the news.

"What was that?" he asked.

Emma Frost gave him a long look before bursting into laughter. Toad continued to goggle at him. Remy made a face.

"Whatever da hell you two be goin through, we best get started," he said.

"Magneto?" Emma called, "I think you should see this."

Kurt gripped Amanda's hand tighter. Magneto stepped around some of the tents, looking frustrated and angry. He looked at Kurt and the emotions melted off his face into something more thoughtful. It creeped Kurt out.

"I see," Magneto said.

Emma began laughing again.

"What's going on?" Kurt asked.

Emma covered her mouth with her hand.

"I mean...he's...you're..." Toad spluttered.

"My brother."

David walked up his eyes hard. Sharon walked behind him, looking about as confused as Kurt felt. David stepped in front of the Brotherhood, blocking Kurt from their view. He crossed his arms and looked Magneto in the eye.

"My name's David Xavier," David said, his voice cold, "And that's my brother, Kurt."

"Really," Magneto said.

David's eyes narrowed.

"Yes," he said, "Really."


	46. Chapter 46

August 19, 1992

David continued to glare at Magneto, his heart in his mouth. They knew. It wasn't as though it were a particularly hard thing to figure out. Kurt was the splitting image of Azazel, colored and shaded to look like Mystique. David had remembered the way it had felt, seeing that picture in the X-men's dossier on the Brotherhood when he was younger.

Kurt had, of course, seen it too. He'd refused to make the connection though. If he'd seen Mystique two pages later then it would have been impossible to deny. Not only did he have Mystique's eyes and skin, she was also their father's sister. It would make sense that she would chose him to drop her baby with.

He'd stopped reading though. Kurt had refused to entertain the possibility that he was anything other than an Xavier. David hadn't pushed the issue. It had happened so long ago that Kurt had most likely forgotten about it.

David hadn't. It was one of the more unpleasant parts of his mutation. He could remember many things in great detail, his mistakes, his fears, and every damn thing the voices in his head had ever said.

He'd hoped that the Brotherhood wouldn't run into Kurt. Mystique seemed curious about her biological son, but not overtly so. He could deal with that. Boom-Boom and Lance didn't seem to have made the connection. They might have joined after Azazel died though. Their timeline on the two of them was a little iffy.

They stared at each other for another few minutes. David knew he wasn't going to be the first one to blink.

"Guys?" Remy said, "I be seein somethin movin."

David turned. Kurt moved away from the trees, pulling Amanda with him. David put his fingers to his temples and began to scan the woods for any minds. When he found one he reached out to make contact, sharper than he'd intended.

_Ow!_

David scanned the mind and relaxed.

_Sorry Uncle Sean_, he thought, _We've all been a little tense lately. _

_Don't worry, I get it_, Sean thought.

"It's just Banshee and the rest," David said.

Remy relaxed, but the Brotherhood still looked a little tense. A few seconds later Sean came through, followed by Alex, Terry, and Deadpool. David could see that his uncle was surprised by the sheer volume of Brotherhood members who were there. David didn't blame him. He was still getting over it himself.

"Okay then," Sean said.

He looked around at the camp.

"Did you get the school evacuated?" he asked.

"Most of it," David said, "We haven't managed to go back there, but I think you got here just in time for the rescue mission."

"Rescue mission?" Alex said.

His voice was low and he was purposefully not making eye contact with Magneto. He still didn't get along with his father-in-law. David didn't blame him for that. He didn't blame any of the X-men for their reactions to the Brotherhood.

However, Alex was in a unique position. David didn't want to answer Alex's question, didn't want to tell him that his wife was among the missing.

"We have a few confirmed MIAs," David said, "Including my parents."

Sean shook his head. Terry bit her lip and Alex swore under his breath.

"Sinister, right?" he asked.

"Yes," David said.

Alex nodded and tilted his head.

"Max and Luna?" he asked.

"They're fine," David said, "Shaken, but fine."

"Good," Alex said, "Where's my wife?"

David paused and swallowed.

"You're not making eye contact with me," Alex said, "Where's my wife?"

"We...we don't know," David said.

* * *

Alex stared at him. They didn't know?

"She's one of the MIAS," David said.

Alex could feel the world swirl in front of him. He remembered talking to Lorna on the phone. That hadn't been that long ago. Nothing had been wrong. His wife of nearly twenty years had been the same as always.

Now she was missing, if not dead. Alex refused to think that though. She was strong, a fierce fighter. She wouldn't let someone like Sinister kill her. However, Sinister had always been fascinated with second generation mutants. If she was alive, then Alex hated to think what Sinister might be doing to her.

He breathed in, trying not to think about her hurt or a prisoner. Sean was saying something, putting his hand on his shoulder, trying to perform the duty that Alex had performed so many times before. He was trying to reassure him.

It wasn't working.

"She knows what she's doing," Sean said.

"Of course," Alex said, "I'm just worried Sinister does too."

He looked at David. He had to be commanding, had to hold it together when he wanted to shatter in a million pieces. He wanted to have Lorna with him so bad that it ached, wanted to know that she was alright.

"If you ever try to hide something from me again, think better of it," Alex said.

David nodded.

"Yes sir," he said.

"Good," Alex said, "Anything else I should know?"

"Angel's dead," David said.

Alex blinked.

"Something was coming after Max and Luna," David said, "She...stepped in."

Alex felt his shoulders slump. Angel had died for his son. He wasn't surprised. It seemed to be the kind of death she would have wanted: one where she could have protected Lorna's children. Lorna's family had been her life after she'd left the Brotherhood.

It was sad. He could still see her as a teenager turning her back on the people who had taken her in. He remembered her standing at the fence post, looking at his house with such longing. Then he remembered her as his children's babysitter and confidante.

"Anything else?" Alex asked quietly.

David shook his head.

"I'm not aware of anything," he said, "You might want to double check with Cyclops."

"Right," Alex said.

His hands turned into fists.

"Where are my children?" he asked.

"Four tents in, two rows down," David said.

"Good," Alex said, "I'll check in with Cyclops after I see them."

He shrugged Sean's hand off and walked through the Brotherhood. They parted for him. They remembered. They remembered what he could do to them, what he had done to them, and they knew better to get in his way when he was angry.

Only one of them didn't move. He hadn't expected Magneto to do the right thing, or even the decent thing. Alex stopped in front of him, the man that Lorna had always insisted was still her father. He kept his voice low.

"Sinister has her," Alex said, "and God only knows what he's doing right now. Happy?"

Magneto's lips pursed.

"No," he said.

"Why don't I believe you?" Alex said, "It's not like you ever cared."

Their eyes met. Alex didn't look at Magneto's eyes so much as he glared at him. He didn't want to pretend that Magneto could be anything other than a monster. He'd tried for years to agree with his wife, to at least try to see things from her point of view. Every time he met Magneto it became a little harder.

"Now get out of my damn way," Alex said, "And let me see my children."

Magneto stepped out of the way, still glaring at him. Alex moved past him. He wasn't going to think about him anymore. He needed to get his children to safety, and then he needed to rescue his wife.

* * *

"Max?" Luna whispered.

Max started. He'd just been about to drift off. He forced himself to sit up and look at his sister. It was the first time she'd spoken since Angel died.

"Yeah?" Max said.

"Why do you have a knife in your coat?" she asked.

He winced, suddenly remembering the knife's presence yet again. He hadn't thought abut that when he'd given Luna his coat. He'd only thought of it as a way he could hug and comfort his sister without actually touching her.

His sister sat up, clutching the coat around her and looking at him with wide eyes.

"I uh, mom gave it to me," he said.

Luna continued to look at him.

"She uh, she told me to keep it with me," Max said, "It used to be hers back when she was with the Brotherhood. She wanted me to have it so I could remember...remember that killing isn't the only option."

Luna frowned. She pulled the knife out of the coat and looked at it. Max had looked over the knife a million times. It had been intricately designed, but there was no mistaking its purpose. It wasn't for show or ceremony. It was meant to kill people.

He wondered how many people his mother had killed with it before she'd realized there was a better way.

"Max, that sad man with the gray eyes," Luna said, "He's Magneto, right?"

"Sad?" Max asked.

"Sad," Luna said.

Her voice had a certainty to it that confused Max.

"He's Magneto," he said, deciding to drop the subject.

She looked at the knife again.

"He's evil, right?" Luna said.

Max hesitated. His sister's voice was so tentative. He didn't know how he felt about the situation himself.

"I don't know," he admitted, "He's supposed to be...but he tried to save mom."

A few tears fell down her cheeks.

"She's gonna be okay, right?" she asked, "It's...it's not gonna be like Angel..."

Max wrapped his arms around his sister, fighting to keep his own tears under control.

"It's not gonna be like Angel," Max said, "She's gonna be fine, alright?"

"That's what I thought about Angel," Luna said, her voice choked with sobs.

"Hey, hey," Max said.

He put his gloved hands on her face so she was looking at him.

"It's always kind of bad before it gets better," he said.

"You're just saying things," she sniffled.

He couldn't argue with her. Not when she said that. Max didn't know what to say. His sister was a child and she'd witnessed Angel's death. She was an innocent, although Max knew that he wasn't much more worldy. He didn't have the words that she needed to hear.

Their mother would know. She wasn't there though. She'd been left behind at the Institute so they would have a chance to escape. Angel would know what to say, but she was dead, had died to protect him.

His father would know. Max had wanted to be like his father for so long, but now he felt like he was a failure.

"Luna, look at me," he said.

Luna forced herself to do so.

"We're going to be fine," he said, "Do you know why?"

She shook her head.

"We're Summers," he said, "And we're always okay. It doesn't matter what the world throws at us. We're made of stronger stuff. Our father led a militia to fight for mutant rights for years. Our mother broke with her family for what she believed in, decided that doing the right thing was stronger than being loyal. We're their children, and we've got that legacy behind us. A legacy of bravery."

Luna looked down, but Max tilted her head up so she could see him.

"We're going to be fine," he said.

The tent door unzipped itself. Max looked up and saw his father staring at them.

"Dad!" Luna said.

She launched herself into their father's arms. He held onto her. Max scrambled up. Although he was fifteen, he let his father sweep him into a bear hug. The knife lay on the floor of the tent, momentarily forgotten.


	47. Chapter 47

August 19, 1992

Mystique stood at the edge of the camp, her arms folded tightly across her chest. She'd seen Toad walking around, his eyes unfocused and his expression dazed. He'd looked at her with wide eyes before scampering off. There were only a few things that could mean in present circumstances.

So she waited. Sooner or later, someone was going to say something. So she'd been unsurprised to see Magneto approach her.

"The X-men are beginning to discuss plans for evacuation," he said.

She nodded, waiting.

"While I was looking into their plans, I came across a rather familiar-looking boy on the other side of the camp," Magneto said, "Now, David Xavier claims he's his brother, but he doesn't look very much like Charles."

She swallowed, her throat growing tight with anger and shame.

"He looks more like you," Magneto said, "You and Azazel. I would say that the resemblance is striking."

She bit the inside of her cheek, tasting blood.

"Is there anything you'd like to tell me my dear?" Magneto said.

She looked at him, feeling as though she were carved of ice.

"Not really, no," she said.

"Don't take me for a fool," Magneto said, "Kurt is obviously your son. We'd have to be blind not to see that."

"You're blind to a lot of things," Mystique said.

He narrowed his eyes, but he had no right to be angry. Not with everything that she'd been through.

"Tell me, Erik," she said, "How long did it take you to decide to bring Lorna into our lifestyle? A child who had just turned eleven? How long did it take for you to start planning out her future amongst a group of assassins?"

Magneto opened his mouth, but Mystique wasn't going to let him interrupt her.

"Because it took me a couple of months to realize that I couldn't expose my child to that," she said, "Even back then I could see what our lifestyle was starting to do to Lorna. Did I think she would leave to marry Alex and play teacher to the X-men? No. But I could smell trouble on her the minute everyone started spoiling her, editing our lives so that we came out looking pristine."

She sneered.

"Even Azazel adored her," she said, "And I wanted to give him a real child, something that would've been ours. Black Tom didn't just kill Azazel that day. He killed our future."

Mystique felt a familiar pain in her chest. She'd known that she wouldn't be able to raise Kurt by herself. Maybe together they could save him from what had happened to Lorna, but she couldn't deal with Kurt on her own. Not with the pain over his father's death so fresh. She'd considered getting an abortion, but she couldn't find it in herself to kill the last piece of Azazel she had.

Part of her had even considered finding a way to make it work: right up until she'd seen Kurt. He'd been beautiful, but he'd looked far too much like his father. Mystique had known then that she couldn't raise him, not without unloading a wealth of bitterness and pain onto him.

So she had decided on a more merciful option. She had left him with her foolish, peaceful brother and his human wife. He'd be around other children, taught to use his powers in a loving environment. It was everything she couldn't give him.

"So don't judge me," Mystique said, "Not when you made such a mess of your own child's life!"

Magneto glared at her, his eyes cold.

"If you'd known for that long you couldn't raise him amongst us, that you couldn't be a parent and a member of the Brotherhood, then why didn't you leave?" Magneto asked.

Mystique leaned in and bared her teeth.

"Why didn't you?" she said.

Magneto didn't say anything. Mystique smiled bitterly.

"That's what I thought," she said.

* * *

"First group to go out will be the youngest children," David said, "Grade schoolers. They're all camping near each other. It should be pretty easy to round them up."

"I'll take the first trip," Calvin said, "Blink teleported both of us up here. She's going to need time to recuperate."

"I know for a fact that you're not going to be able to teleport as fast as she can," Scott said.

"It will take me longer," Calvin said, "But I can still take about ten students. That's not a bad start."

David nodded. Scott inclined his head as well. Behind him Sean, Terry, and Deadpool listened. Well, David thought that Deadpool was listening. He looked like was just leaning up against a nearby tree, looking bored.

"We're going to need some additional security for the camp," Scott said, "Remy and Boom-Boom are getting left behind, but they're the only fully-trained fighters."

"Terry should be able to help with that," Sean said.

Terry glared at her father. Sean caught her expression and gestured to her.

"Can I have a word with my daughter for a moment?" he asked.

Without waiting for an answer Sean and Terry stepped off to the side. The two of them began talking in urgent whispers. Calvin looked uncomfortable and Scott redirected his attention to David.

"I heard there was an incident with the Brotherhood on the edge of the camp," Scott said.

He winced, remembering the way they had stared at his brother. David hadn't been careful and, as a result, Kurt had been exposed.

"There was," David said, "But I think it will be fine, as long as those people don't come near me or my brother again."

Calvin coughed.

"That's going to be kind of difficult," he said.

David and Scott turned to him. Calvin threw his hands up.

"I'm just stating the obvious," he said, "I'm not sure...what the deal is exactly, but we're going to be working with them in kind of close quarters."

"I'm not," David said.

He jerked his thumb towards Scott.

"Him and his team are," he said, "I can deal with one Brotherhood member. That will be fine."

He cracked his neck.

"I just want the rest of them to stay away," David said.

_Afraid for your freak brother?_

"Makes sense," Scott said, "Can you start getting the children ready?"

"Right away," David said.

"And, while you're at it," Scott said, "Could you tell my brother that we need to get moving?"

* * *

_Alex, Scott wants you to meet him at the front of the camp._

Alex closed his eyes.

_I'll be there in a minute David_, he thought.

He looked at his children.

"I'm going to go after your mother," Alex said, "I want you two to keep safe and get out of here."

Max bowed his head. Luna clutched her father closer, her eyes filling with tears. Alex's heart twisted painfully. He had gone into dangerous battles before. He'd never gone in like this though.

All of Alex's most dangerous missions had been before he'd had children. Life had petered off once Max had been born. Then he'd left. Alex hadn't even been an X-man anymore when Luna had been born.

There had always been consequences if he'd died in battle. He would leave behind a team, a brother, unfinished work and, later, a wife. Now the consequences would be different if he died in battle. His children would be left fatherless. He would never see them grow up.

"Dad, please don't go," Luna said, "When people go...when people go, bad things happen."

Alex put his hand on top of his daughter's head. She still seemed shaken, as though she were about to fall apart. Her eyes were wide open and pleading. He had never seen his daughter this fragile before.

Luna had never been afraid of the dark as a child. She had rarely had nightmares and, when she did, she had only gone to her parents for comfort when she was very young. Luna had always listened, excited, when they told stories about their careers as X-men.

Hearing stories and actually seeing people die were two completely different things. It sounded as though Angel had died slowly, and in great pain. Luna had always loved her aunt, loved her family, and was still young enough to think that life was a fairy tale.

Something had also tried to kidnap her. Alex still didn't know what had tried to take her. No one had been able to describe it accurately. He also didn't know why it had focused in on her. However, it was Sinister, and Luna was his daughter. That led to some interesting, and rather unpleasant, conclusions. He remembered what Sinister had always thought about his family.

He held Luna tighter. Alex wasn't going to let that madman touch her. He'd already come after him, hurt Scott, and now he held his wife. Luna was still too much of a stranger to life to have it snatched from her.

Alex knelt down in front of her.

"I'm going to come back," he said, "And I'm going to have your mother with me when I do."

Luna looked up at him.

"Max said being brave was part of our legacy," she whispered.

Alex looked up at his son. Max seemed sheepish, but Alex just smiled at him. His son had some interesting ideas.

"Did he now?" Alex said.

Luna nodded.

"Luna, your brother's right, in a way," Alex said, "You have a family of brave people. But..."

He put his hand on the side of her face. She had her mother's eyes, but an innocence and light that was all her own.

"True bravery comes from the decisions you make," he said, "It's not about fighting, not really. It's about knowing when to stand your ground, and what's worth standing your ground for. And that's something that you have to decide yourself."

He hugged her.

"I know that you'll figure it out," he said.

He let go of Luna. Her gaze remained on him as he walked over to Max.

"When did you get so old?" Alex asked.

Max shook his head.

"I'm only fifteen," he said.

"You're smarter than I was when I was fifteen," Alex said.

"You were field commander of the X-men by that time," Max said.

"That doesn't mean that I was smart," Alex said, "I got put in that position because I was thrust into it. It took me another few years to really know what I was doing. You're much more mature than I was."

He put his hands on both of his son's shoulders.

"Take care of your sister," he said, "And when I get back with your mother, we're all going to go home to Alaska."

Max's mouth dropped open.

"But...my skin..." he said.

"You've learned a lot from the school," Alex said, "If you want to stay here or come back in the future, then that's alright. But I think you've learned enough to maintain it. We want you home Max. If you want to stay, then we're moving down here."

He hugged him.

"One way or another, we're going to be a family again," Alex said, "All of us."

He released him and ruffled Luna's hair.

"Pretty soon you're going to get called to be teleported to Washington," he said, "You all know Hank. He'll take care of you until your mother and I get there."

"Dad-" Max said.

Alex simply shook his head.

"Take care of yourselves," he said, "I'll be back."

Alex forced himself to smile at his children. Then, with a heavy heart, he walked out of the tent. He didn't have to go far before he found Scott. His brother nodded to him and adjusted his uniform's gloves.

They both stood in silence.

"It's harder now," Alex said, "Now that I have children."

Scott looked over at him.

"I never...when Max was born, I didn't think about things like this," he said, "I definitely didn't think about things like this when Luna was born. Maybe I should have. I was retired, but you never really retire from this sort of thing. I should've thought of that."

He shrugged.

"But right now, my children need their mother. They need Lorna," he said.

Alex looked down. It was difficult to talk, but he'd always been able to depend on Scott.

"And I need Lorna," he said, "I always have. I always will."

Scott looked his brother in the eye.

"As I told you once, very long ago," Scott said, "We'll get her back."

Alex smiled. The only way to answer that was the way he'd answered it years ago, when he'd been a young man desperately in love, trying to save the woman who was quickly becoming his future.

"I know," he said.


	48. Chapter 48

August 19, 1992

The sun was just about to come up when the X-men and most of the Brotherhood set out. David watched them go. It was difficult not to feel a little left out as they did so. Childhood dreams, no matter how foolish, did not die just because of their impossibility.

_He's whining again. Why doesn't he just shut up? Sinister will kill him soon enough. _

David rubbed his temples. Scott waved to David, and David knew that it was the signal to start moving the children out.

_Remember, if anything happens, reach out for me_, Jean thought.

_Yes, you'll get the best signal_, David thought, _And if I have time, I'll try to see if I can connect to my father somehow._

He could almost hear Jean smile, but it would have had to be a sad one. They were both out of range for something like that. David hadn't grown up with a strong connection to his father. He'd refused to build one with him.

Alex looked back at him and gave him a stern look. David knew he was worried about his children. He waved at him and turned away towards the other side of the camp. They had already gotten the first group of children sorted out.

David watched as the children huddled close to Calvin. He'd given them all a rope to hold onto, which he'd tied to his wrist, so they could all teleport together. Calvin was only mimicking his wife's power, and he wanted to make sure the children stayed close.

Calvin was doing a good job reassuring the children that everything was going to be fine though. David knew that he worked with underprivileged youths for a living, and was hoping to adopt. He'd be a good father one day.

He held out one of his crystals, his fist clenching around it.

"This is going to feel kind of strange," Calvin said, "But it's going to be okay. It'll only take an hour tops, and then Hank's going to give you all a ton of ice cream. Make sure to ask Carly, that's his wife, for cookies. Those are awesome."

He grinned.

"Right Sharon?" he asked.

"No one beats my mom's cookies," Sharon said.

A few of the children looked a little more relaxed at this statement.

"Three...two...one!" Calvin said.

There was a flash of pink light, and the children disappeared. David turned away from the area and sat down next to Clarice. Sharon followed. Clarice idly began forming another crystal in her hand.

"You think Kurt should go next, don't you?" she asked.

"Not right away," David said, "He's been doing some teleporting over the past few days. He probably needs to rest."

Clarice pursed her lips as she finished her crystal.

"That means I should go next," she said, "I plan on taking Max and Luna in my group."

"We're taking the youngest ones first," David said.

"Last I checked, Luna was ten," Clarice said, "She's young enough to make it into the next group. It's either I take Max with us or separate them."

David considered her words.

"Makes sense," he said, "Feel free to take them with the next group."

He looked at Sharon.

"I don't suppose I could convince you to go with them?" he asked.

Sharon gave him a cool look.

"No," she said.

"I know better than to argue with that face," David said.

He got up.

"Make sure that the next group is gathered together," he said, "I'm going to go tell Max and Luna that they're going with them."

"Can't you just, you know?" Sharon said, waving her hand around her head.

David shrugged.

"I could," he said, "I'm trying not to overdo it though. Besides, I need to make rounds of the different patrol stations."

He cracked his neck.

"Standard procedure," David said, "I can't exhaust my telepathy on that."

"Right," Sharon said, "Because we all know how easily you get tired."

David laughed and kissed her cheek. It still felt strange to be so affectionate with her.

"I'll be back soon," he said, "Well, I'll be back before Calvin is anyway."

He got up and began walking to the other side of the camp. On his way he saw Terry sitting at her patrol point. Her eyes were facing forwards and David saw something he'd never seen before: she had a gun.

In the past, she had never needed a weapon. Her voice was her weapon. Her own skills had been enough. Then again, he'd never seen her on a mission with her father for whatever organization they'd worked for. She must have handled a gun during at least one of those missions.

He remembered when she had been training for the X-men. With those memories came memories of how the jealousy had bubbled up inside him. If she had been taken in for training, allowed to do missions, then why couldn't he? It had been part of his self-destructive path.

Something had to be said about that. He needed to tell her that things had changed, that he was different now. They hadn't had a chance to talk since his epiphany that night in Boston. It hadn't been long since then, but it seemed like it had happened an age ago.

In the distance he saw Remy switch patrols with Deadpool. The two of them nodded to each other and Remy headed back into the camp. Deadpool looked in their direction and Terry looked away, her expression tense. Deadpool's shoulders sagged slightly before he hurried off.

For a moment David looked after him. He knew that there were other patrol points to check. He still needed to find Max and Luna, tell them that they were in the next group. However, he still hesitated.

Finally David sat down next to Terry. He knew he had no right to discuss these things with her, but he was unofficially in charge of their small group. It meant that the responsibility of making sure that everyone was alright fell to him.

More than that, they had once been good friends. They had drifted apart, and that was his fault. He knew that what he was about to do might not endear himself to her, but it couldn't make things too much worse.

Terry inclined her head, but didn't show any other sign that she had noticed his presence.

"I heard what happened," David said, "I'm sorry."

Terry shrugged.

"And I know what Deadpool did," David said.

Terry stiffened.

"You've probably heard a lot of different things, ranging from people wanting to kill him and, well, other people telling you that you should move on, that he wasn't worth your time in the first place," David said, "I just...as your friend, although I haven't been a very good one, I just want to know how you feel."

He tapped his head.

"You can tell me," he said.

Terry swallowed and looked down at the gun in her hand. She closed her eyes.

_David, it hurts._

He waited, still listening. He wondered when he had become the type to listen like he did now. Then again, between her father trying to take care of her and the upcoming battle, there might not have been much time for her to let anyone know just how she felt.

_Back when we were just starting out_, Terry thought, _He used to get into trouble all the time. I saw him do some things, act in ways that made me feel sick. But, beyond that, I always knew that there was more to him. I knew that there was a good person who was struggling beneath the weight of so much._

She looked into the distance.

_I knew he would do things to hurt himself,_ Terry thought, _I'm not talking about actually hurting himself physically, but damaging himself mentally and emotionally. Ignoring his better angels and pretending that he was just a monster. But...I've seen real monsters David. I know that he isn't one of them. Even now, he's just a troubled idiot. And once he found out I cared about him, he got better. I always thought..._

Terry bowed her head.

_I thought I might be helping him learn who he really was_, she thought, _I thought he cared for me. I promised him, once when things were bad, that if he wanted it, I would make sure that he never had to face the darkness alone._

She clenched her fists.

_But then, the one time when I needed him, he left me,_ she thought, _He left me to go after the people who attacked me. In some way I suppose that shows he cared, but that's...he should've known that's not what I would've wanted. I wanted him there David._

_I can imagine_, David thought, _We sometimes need people more than we'd like to admit. If I hadn't had Kurt when I was younger, after what happened at the hotel, I don't know what I would've done._

Terry nodded.

_I've told him that I loved him_, Terry thought, _He never said it back, and I thought that was just his way. But now...David, I've been used too much when I was little to let myself get used again._

_Are you sure he's using you?_ David asked.

_He isn't_, Terry thought, _Not really. But...before I can forgive him I need something from him David. Something that I don't think he can give me. _

_And what's that?_ David thought.

She looked at him, pain in her eyes.

_Reassurance he won't do this again_, Terry said, _Reassurance that he'll at least try not to._

David nodded in understanding. Terry'd already gone through enough pain to last a lifetime. The last thing she needed was to experience more of it.

_Thank you for coming over_, Terry thought, _I've missed you. _

From the inflection in her thoughts David knew she meant more than just his absence.

_You're different now,_ Terry thought, _You haven't been yourself for the past six years, and now it's like the clock's turned back._

_I'm trying to be better_, David said, _To not be the bitter person I've been through the last years. To be the person my father hoped I would be, that my brother thought I was. The person that Sharon thinks I am. _

_I thought you two might get together some day_, Terry said.

_That obvious?_ David laughed.

_She's the only person outside of your family that really understands you_, Terry thought, _So, yes, it was obvious in that sense._

_You're right, _David thought.

He got up. To his surprise Terry rose with him and hugged him. David blinked and hugged back.

_Thank you,_ she thought, _You're really growing up to be like your father, you know that right?_

The words shocked him.

_I have his looks and his powers,_ he thought, _Kurt has his soul. _

_Don't sell yourself short David,_ Terry said, _You've been scarred, but so have many of us. Maybe it's time you started to think of yourself as the person you could be, rather than the one you see yourself as. Try to see yourself through the eyes of the people who love you: i__t's a much better sight than you think._

David let go. He looked over at Deadpool's figure in the distance.

_He's an asshole if he doesn't love you,_ he thought.

_He's already an asshole David_, Terry thought, _It doesn't make me love him any less._

David chuffed her shoulder and moved off, feeling a little more capable now.


	49. Chapter 49

August 19, 1992

"So how should we go in?" Alex asked.

Scott took his binoculars down. The Institute looked normal. The only unusual thing about it was that all of the lights were on. All of the lights were never on, not even on the first day of school. No one was ever up at the same time during the day. Some students were late sleepers, and others were nocturnal.

The last of the dark was just starting to fade from the sky, so the dark would only last for so long. They needed some sort of cover, and that meant that they would have to move fast to take advantage of it.

The impatience in his brother's voice was obvious. However, the fact that he was asking instead of commanding still meant the world to Scott. Alex had meant it when he'd given him field command of the X-men. He was following Scott's lead, and that made command all the more daunting.

"Three groups," Scott said, "Have a team on the roof, one goes in the back, and the other goes in the front. We should have Emma and Marvel on different teams. We'll need some way to communicate with each other."

"And the third team?" Toad asked.

"We'll have Marvel keep close contact with them," Scott said.

He looked at the company.

"Logan, Havok, Mystique, and Emma should be in the group going in from the front," Scott said, "I'll go in from the back, along with Marvel, Toad, and Lance. Magneto, Storm, and Banshee should take the roof."

He put his binoculars back in his pack.

"Unless you have any objections Magneto?" he asked.

It was a courtesy question, but one he knew he had to ask. His brother snorted. Scott had hoped that he'd have his brother's cooperation when it came to Magneto. He'd worked with him in the past. Some wounds ran too deep for a temporary patch though.

"It will work fine," Magneto said, "Just keep in contact at all times. If you find any prisoners, alert me."

Scott nodded.

"Everyone get ready," he said, "We should all enter separately, you'll get a message from Marvel when it's time to move in. We'll make sure to move as one unit."

"The roof team should split off now," Magneto said, "And the other two should stay together for a while."

There was logic to what he said. Scott nodded and peeled away, heading into the woods. There was a path there that ran along the outside of the Institute. Night was no longer on their side, and they would have to be careful.

"Hey, one-eye."

Scott rubbed his temples. Logan was speaking in low tones, but Scott wished that he wouldn't bother him. Not now.

"What Logan?" he asked.

"Somethin I need ta know," he said.

Scott sighed.

"What?" he asked.

"The green haired girl," Logan said, "Lorna or whatever her name is. She Mags's daughter?"

Scott froze.

"I'm not stupid," Logan said, "Don't think I haven't noticed that there're two other people runnin around here controllin metal. An I saw Max tonight when he was fightin that thing with wings that killed that woman. He didn't look like a Summers then. He looked like someone else."

Scott couldn't help himself. He laughed quietly.

"Logan, you assume a lot about my family," he said, "You probably think we're all boy scouts because we're not willing to kill, because we consider it the last option, and a bad one at that. Don't think we won't, and don't think we haven't. We didn't get where we are by doing nothing."

He cracked his neck.

"As for anything you have to say about my sister-in-law or my nephew," Scott said, "now really isn't the time or the place. The time might've been before now, but it's not like it's information that you actually need."

"Might help me understand why the hell Mags is actin the way he his," Logan said.

His voice was irritated. Scott didn't want to dignify him with an answer.

"So, Lorna," Logan asked, "He her father?"

"Yes and no."

Alex drew level with them, his eyes cold.

"Yes, her biological father is Erik Lensherr," Alex said, his voice low, "Yes, she was raised by him since she was eleven. In that sense, she's his daughter."

His eyes became, if possible, even colder.

"Is she really his daughter though?" Alex said, "After he threw her out when she realized there was a better way to live, a better way to fight for what she believed in? After she decided that she loved me? He cut off all contact with her, said he didn't have a daughter. God knows she tried to still talk to him every now and then, but every damn time she tried it ended in heartbreak for her."

Alex met Logan's eyes.

"Why do you think this will help you predict what Magneto does?" he asked, "He uses people. When he's done with them, when they don't serve their purpose anymore, he throws them away."

Logan stared at Alex for a moment.

"He ran into a burning part of the building ta try ta get ta her tonight," he said, "All I've seen o him, when it comes ta her, is him tryin ta help."

Alex's face lost some of his frigidity.

"Then maybe he has some of his soul left," Alex said, "but not enough to count on."

He straightened his uniform's gloves as they approached the back of the school. The other team separated from them. Logan gave Alex a strange look as he brushed past them and headed to the front of the group.

"You're brother's not what I expected," Logan said.

"I told you, you don't know much about my family," Scott said.

"Apparently," Logan said.

He turned around and took off after the other group. Jean looked back at Scott.

_What was that about?_ she thought.

_Just clarifying some things,_ Scott said, _Nothing to worry about._

They moved behind a few trees. The back of the school was in plain sight now.

_Are the other groups in place?_ Scott asked.

Jean put her hands on either side of her head.

_Yes,_ she thought.

_Good,_ Scott thought, _Let's head in._

* * *

"They should take older people soon," Kurt said, "I want you to go with them. You should be safe with Hank and his family."

"And you?" Amanda asked, "When are you coming?"

"Probably with one of the last groups," Kurt said, "I know that I'll be teleporting at least one group out. I'm not sure I'm up to any more."

Amanda nodded and twined her hand with his.

"Do you want to talk about what happened earlier?" she asked.

He rested his arm on his knee.

"I have no clue what happened earlier," Kurt said, "The Brotherhood...their expressions...it was like they were seeing a ghost."

Amanda didn't say anything, no doubt waiting for him to clarify. He thought back to when he was younger, the one time he had flipped through the X-man's dossier on the Brotherhood. The man who looked like a demon stared up at him, and Kurt had slammed the book shut.

Part of him wished that he'd read more. The other part of him was perfectly happy with the decision that he'd made.

"I don't know," Kurt said.

Amanda squeezed his hand tighter.

"It's probably nothing," she said.

"Probably," Kurt agreed.

He knew just how uncertain he sounded. Amanda yawned next to him.

"Try to get some shut eye," he said, "I'll be back in a bit. My brother shouldn't be too far away."

Amanda nodded reluctantly. She was too tired to argue. He kissed her forehead before getting up and stepping out of the tent. He saw David walking towards the other end of the camp, Max and Luna in tow.

Kurt teleported over to them. Max started, but David just smiled.

"You might want to save that," he said, "You're going to have to start teleporting soon."

"I know," Kurt said, "I just wanted to talk to you about something."

"What about?" David asked.

Kurt put his hands in his pockets.

"Something private," he said.

Fear flickered across his brother's face. A moment later the flicker was gone and David made a gesture to Max.

"You know where the zone is," he said, "You can make it there by yourself, right?"

"Right," Max said.

He gave Kurt a curious look before pulling his sister with him. She gazed at Kurt.

"You don't need to be so scared," she said.

Kurt's eyes widened, wanting to ask her what she meant. Max was still pulling her away though. David shrugged.

"Max tells me she's been saying some weird things tonight," he said, "She's probably still out of it after...you know."

"Yeah," Kurt said.

He cleared his throat.

"David...why was the Brotherhood staring at me like that?" he asked.

David cocked his head.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"One of them called me Zaz David," Kurt said, "What does that mean?"

David shifted his feet, not breaking eye contact but not looking comfortable either. Kurt had the feeling he was going to give him an evasive answer of some kind. David was training to be a lawyer, and Kurt knew that he was good at bending the truth.

"Why would I know?" David said.

"Because you know a lot about the Brotherhood," Kurt said, "I remember you pouring through those dossiers for hours when we were younger."

David moved his lips a little. Kurt knew that meant his brother was biting the inside of his cheek.

"David, I know you know," Kurt said.

For a moment time slowed. David was looking at him, searching for something. Kurt wondered what it was that he saw. He knew that he could be silly at times. Kurt knew that, compared to others, he was probably naïve and overly optimistic. He was the contemplative, thoughtful one. Kurt wasn't cynical like David.

He hoped that wasn't all David thought of him.

"I think that there are some questions that have answers that only hurt people," David said at last, "Answers that aren't good, that don't have any real bearing on what's going on. They're superficial because the people in question have gone far beyond the answers. All that's left is to cause pain."

Kurt closed his eyes.

"You think that this is one of those questions, isn't it?" he asked.

"Yes," David said.

Kurt opened his eyes again. He felt desperate.

"David," Kurt said, "I...I'm not blind. I know that Mystique looks a lot like me-"

"Mutations get repeated all the time," David said.

He spoke quickly, and Kurt's heart sank.

"David," he said.

His voice came out soft and sad. David took a deep breath.

"Kurt, if you want to know more about...things," David said, "Then I'll help. I'll always help you."

He breathed in again.

"But I think you already know all you need to know," David said, "And I think that you know what you want to know."

He raised one of his hands. In the dim light of the rising sun Kurt could make out the scar across his palm. Kurt raised his own hand. In his blue skin, there was an identical scar, one that had never healed just right.

"Blood brothers," David said.

"Blood brothers," Kurt agreed.

He lowered his hand.

"Thanks David," he said.

"Don't thank me just yet," David said, "We've still got tonight to get through."

"I know, but thanks anyway," Kurt said.

David laughed, just as a scream broke out from the other side of the camp.


	50. Chapter 50

August 19, 1992

Clarice leapt to her feet. She could see Luna pulling closer towards her brother as the first soldiers charged into the camp.

"Get back, all of you!" she shouted.

She plucked a few of her crystals out of her quiver and threw them at the nearest soldiers. They disappeared in a cloud of pink light. The others kept pushing forward, and Clarice drew out two more crystals.

Although she had allowed her hair to grow long, she had never allowed herself to grow out of shape. Some of the children at their facility had found dance or martial arts as a good release. They had needed someone to teach them.

There were other reasons. They would never tell the X-men this, but sometimes the gangs that the children had fled from wanted them back. It was nothing that she couldn't handle, especially with Calvin by her side. The gangs were untutored thugs. They had learned their craft in a militia. She supposed that it had always leant credence to Calvin's claims to understand the children.

Clarice summersaulted over the nearest soldiers. She aimed low and used her crystals to cut at their feet. A few fired some shots at her, but she activated one of her crystals and teleported behind a soldier.

She kicked him in the chest and sent him to the ground. Another raised his gun, but a glowing card landed on him. The card exploded as Remy jumped into the fray, his staff slamming into someone's face.

Clarice pulled back so she was standing back to back with him.

"It's been a while," she said, "But I assume Cyclops taught you how to fight as a pair."

"Had ta do fifty simulations on it," Remy said.

"Sounds about right," Clarice said.

She tossed one of her crystals at an approaching soldier. She heard the sound of fighting in another part of the camp, and she assumed that the rest had heard the sounds of the battle. Good: they needed everyone they could get.

There was a flash of pink light. Calvin appeared. He looked surprised, but he quickly turned his skin to diamond. He began smashing his way through the nearest soldiers to him, making his way over to her. He'd never let her fight without him.

"Gambit," Clarice said, "I need you to make sure the kids waiting to be teleported got out of here."

She tossed another crystal.

"More importantly, you need to make sure Max and Luna are out of the way," she said, "It looks like Sinister was after them last time."

"Ya think they be the intended targets?" Remy asked.

"It's likely," Clarice said, "And I need someone who can blow a lot of people up watching their backs."

"Ya asked da right person," Remy said.

He jumped off into the distance as Calvin reached her side.

"Just like old times, huh?" he asked.

Clarice threw another crystal.

"Let's just hope that I don't have to save you too much," she said.

Calvin laughed as he plunged into another line of soldiers. Clarice weaved around them. They were all clumsy, and she wondered why Sinister would hire so many. He had usually had soldiers with them. His scientific experiments had always brought him money, enough to hire people to do anything he wanted.

He had never had so many. She had to wonder why he had chosen now to create such an army, and why he felt that he needed it. Clarice weaved amongst a few of them and plunged one of her crystals into a soldiers shoulder. She used it to gain leverage and kick another one.

From the far side of the clearing she saw Terry rush in, followed by Deadpool. They were shooting, which surprised Clarice. She wasn't used to working with guns. Terry only used her gun for a little while though, using her hands when she got close enough. Clarice saw Deadpool draw swords before she turned back to her own fight.

Clarice felt something throw her into the air. She hit the ground hard and saw a large fist heading for her. She activated her crystal and teleported away. When she claimed her new spot the ground was shaking from the impact.

Her opponent turned and faced her. In the rising sun she could see gray skin covered in blue tattoos. Clarice drew another crystal. She could see her husband punching his way towards her, seeing that who she was fighting was different.

The man held out his hand and Clarice was lifted into the air. She teleported away, landing behind him and slashing at his arm with one of her crystals. It shattered on his arm as he turned around.

She stared. That had never happened. She hadn't even known that her crystals could shatter. She twirled to avoid his fist, but she felt his other fist slam into her. Her ribs cracked under the impact and she was sent to the ground.

"You have, I think, the normal allotment of bravery for an X-man," he said, "Above average, but nothing terribly unique."

She thought she saw him twist his lips into a smile of disappointment.

"Mediocre," he said.

* * *

Finding Max and Luna had been easier than Remy had thought. They had been leaving the area, but he was faster than both of them. He saw two soldiers heading their way and sent two cards towards them.

Remy had just reached them when he saw Rogue coming out of one of the tents, looking shocked. She still had his coat over his shoulders, so Remy wasted no time in grabbing her arm and pulling her with the rest.

She didn't question him. Rogue might not be a warrior, but Remy could see that she had the makings of one. She had the makings of a great many things, some of which sent his head spinning and his heart pounding. It was better to think about it at a later time, but still.

There was a flash of black smoke and David appeared along with Kurt. Remy saw Boom-Boom running up from the other side of the camp, throwing disks of light at a few of the soldiers. The explosions showed that she had hit her targets.

"What's happening?" David asked.

"Some soldiers broke in," Remy said, "Blink an Mimic were takin care of it when they told me ta get Max an Luna."

"Right," David said, "Where-?"

There was a crash. Remy saw Calvin, only he'd been flung to the ground. There were a few hairline cracks in his diamond skin. There was a flash of pink light and Clarice appeared next to him, grabbing his arm. She was walking awkwardly, and Remy knew that her ribs had been broken.

The sound of gunfire filled the air. Terry and Deadpool were standing next to each other, both emptying their guns at unseen targets. Two tents were ripped apart, and a giant stormed into the area, the bullets ricocheting off his skin. Remy gaped. He'd never seen the man before, but something told him he didn't want to get into a fight with him. Something else told him he was going to have to.

David immediately put his hand to his temples. The man snorted and waved his hand. Blood began to gush from David's nose and he fell to the ground, gasping and spluttering. Kurt immediately caught him.

"Please, your father already tried," the man said, "If he failed, what chance do you have?"

David looked up, his eyes glowing with hatred. Clarice threw a crystal at the man, but he caught it with one of his hands. Before it teleported him he crushed it into powder. He flicked his hand out, casually sending Terry and Deadpool flying.

Remy swallowed and began charging his cards.

"You two," the man said.

He pointed at Max and Luna.

"Come quietly and lives will be spared," he said.

Max held his sister closer. Remy tossed his cards, aiming at the man's feet. The ground exploded, throwing clots of dirt into the air. Remy pushed Max and Luna backward and caught Kurt's eye. He knew that Kurt was worried about his brother, but they didn't have many options for getting the siblings out.

Kurt seemed to understand. He teleported away from his brother and grabbed Luna's hand. The next moment Kurt was hurtled through the air, landing somewhere near the man's feet. Luna was sent flying with him. Kurt pulled his arms around her, acting as a shield for when they fell.

Boom-Boom tossed a handful of light at the man, but a flying tent sent her spiraling to the ground. Remy could see that David was still trying to break into the man's mind, but the blood just kept pouring from him. It didn't look good.

Clarice and Calvin got to their feet. Clarice began teleporting herself rapidly around the man, no doubt trying to get to Kurt and Luna. The man hit her, sending her to the ground. She cried out and Remy could tell that the man had broken the rest of her ribs. Calvin rushed to her side, his skin still diamond. The man hit him and his diamond skin cracked under the impact.

"It's pathetic really," the man said, "The only ones displaying any kind of uniqueness are ones I already have."

Max threw out his hands. Several of the tent poles flew out, twisting themselves into bands. The man snapped them, but he looked at Max with interest.

"Your sister really means that much?" he asked.

In answer Max kept his hand out. The rest of the tent poles went wild, each rising into the air. One by one they flew at the man, slashing and tearing at him. Unlike the bullets and the crystals, they were making dents. David got shakily to his feet, his eyes narrowing in concentration. The man winced.

Some of the poles hit, making the man stagger. The poles dented against his skin.

"Enough," the man said.

He splayed his hand out and the poles were sent flying. David collapsed to the floor, struggling to get back up.

"I think you've earned your lives," the man said.

He turned and sighed as he approached Luna and Kurt. Remy took one of his card packs, charged it, and threw the whole thing at him. The air filled with explosions and magenta light, but Remy knew what he would see when it was done.

The man turned slowly. His skin was charred, which was a good sign, but he looked irritated.

"You think it wise to call me out in this manner?" he asked.

"It probably be da dumbest ting Remy ever done," Remy said.

He took out another pack of cards.

"Don't mean Remy ain't gonna try," he said.

The man charged. Remy threw another couple of his cards. He reached for more, but he only had two packs left. Normally having over one hundred little explosives would be more than enough. This time he had the feeling he'd end up wanting more.

The first punch broke two of his ribs. Remy coughed and rolled, fumbling for his cards. The man kicked him, and Remy could feel two more break. It felt like his entire diaphragm was turned in on him, attacking him.

A figure moved to his right. Remy watched in amazement and horror as Rogue reached out and grabbed the man's arm. He saw the man's veins move as the man gasped, but Rogue was the one who started screaming.

She stumbled away and fell to the floor, panting. The man turned to her, his eyes furious.

"You dare!" he snarled.

Remy tossed his pack of cards at him. The explosions allowed him to push Rogue out of the way.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Remy, he ain't...Remy I couldn't-" Rogue whispered.

"It's okay chere," he said.

He felt something lift him into the air. Remy stared into the man's eyes, and somehow he knew what Rogue was talking about. This man wasn't normal, even for a mutant. He was something differently entirely. He'd seen it in his adopted father. This was a monster.

The man's hand began to shift to his throat. Remy knew he was going to kill him, but he always kept an ace up his sleeve, whether literally or figuratively. It was time to see if he was as selfless as the people who had saved him all that time ago.

Rogue was behind him. He'd hoped, in time, that there could be something there. He'd known it would be difficult, but he'd never been one to take the easy way. She was different from anyone he'd ever met, and he'd wanted to explore that. If he was going to be selfless for someone though, he was glad it was her.

He touched the man's shoulder, charging him with as much energy as he could. The man's eyes widened.

"Boom," Remy laughed.

There was an explosion. Remy felt something else in him break as he tumbled to the floor. Blood was coming from his lips, and that wasn't good. He saw Kurt and Luna a few steps away. Luna was out and Kurt was struggling to get to his feet.

He looked up. The man was injured, but Remy could see him healing. He casually punched Kurt to the floor, grabbing him and Luna with one hand. With the other hand he grabbed Remy's arm.

"Impressive," he said.

Then the world dissolved into blue light.


	51. Chapter 51

August 19, 1992

The school was a mess. Both soldiers and students had wrecked the back hall, knocking over furniture and pictures in their flight. The floor was covered in shards of ceramic. Stuffed toys and shoes had been abandoned. Everything had been broken or turned upside down.

There were muddy foot prints smeared on the wooden floorboards and carpets. Jean thought she saw nail marks in the walls, and she knew for a fact that there were bullet holes in there too. It made her burn.

The Institute had always been such a warm, welcoming place. It had been big and grand, but it had also managed to be homey. As a young girl going to a strange place for a strange reason she had been terrified to go into the Institute. However, its welcoming appearance had helped ease her anxiety. She had never felt anything other than safe in her new home.

Now people had come, invaded it, and made a mess of it. She saw some crystal pieces that had been shattered on the floor. They had, if she remembered correctly, belonged to the Professor's mother. They had never really been used for anything, Moira had never been very fussy when it came to table settings. The Professor just kept them to remind him of his childhood.

They had always been kept in a cabinet, far out of the reach of prying students. Too many of them wanted to reach for shiny things, heedless of the consequences that could result. They had been carefully preserved.

Now soldiers had come in and smashed them.

"Marvel?" Scott asked.

She closed her eyes, trying to get her anger under control. She'd always been good at pretending that she felt less than she did. It was how she'd been able to get through most of the early days of her mutations.

Jean reached out, scanning the Institute for any unfamiliar minds. She felt the minds of a few soldiers on the second floor. Only a few of them were awake. There weren't that many overall though, and that worried her. Sinister had a veritable army now, and she didn't know where they had all gone.

_There are a few on the second floor_, she thought, projecting to everyone, _Only three of them are awake. They're playing poker near the door. _

_We can take care of that_, Ororo thought.

Jean made a signal to Scott. They crept down the hallway. After a few minutes they met up with the rest of the team.

"Ground floor's clear," Scott said.

He folded his arms.

"We're going to need to check the basement," he said, "From what I remember, Sinister has always liked lurking in dark corners."

Scott moved forwards. He was about to lead them to the medical bay when Raven stepped forward and pressed a panel in the wall. A control panel came out and she entered the code. Scott watched her and Jean could see the rage growing in his face.

"So you did it," he said.

She looked at him over her shoulder.

"Do you want to argue about it right now, or do you want to go hunting for a mad scientist?" she asked tartly.

Scott gritted his teeth, but he didn't say anything. Alex looked like he was ready to punch her as well. Jean took a deep breath. Mystique been the one to poison Charles, and she was his sister. It just went to show that the Brotherhood really didn't care about anything except themselves.

The door to the lower levels opened. Scott walked up to it, giving his brother a long look. Though the two had never been telepathic, they had always been good at passing messages to each other with looks, messages that Jean had never been able to understand.

The rest of their group came down from the stairs. Logan looked a little scuffed up, but she knew he would heal. The rest of them looked fine. Without another word they began to funnel down to the lower levels.

People had been down there too. The pristine, white floors, had mud staining the surface. A few things were broken in the first med bay, but it looked like all of the major operations had been pushed away from the normal areas.

_Jean!_

Jean paused and put her hand to her head. Scott turned.

"Marvel?" he asked.

"One moment," Jean said.

She pressed herself up against the wall to steady herself. It would be easier to concentrate when she didn't have to worry about falling over. David's thoughts seemed weak from so far away, but she could hear the panic in them.

_I can hear you_, she thought.

_Jean we need...we need to..._

_David, what happened?_ she asked.

_Some...something was at the camp_, David thought, _He wasn't the same one as before. He took my brother, Luna, and Remy. _

"What?" she whispered.

It took her a moment for her to realize that she'd spoken aloud. Scott was still looking at her, but so was everyone else. Her eyes met Alex's, and she ached with the knowledge that his little daughter was missing. She put her other hand to her head and they all continued to watch, no doubt curious by the despair on her face.

_Is anyone else hurt?_ she thought.

_Clarice and Calvin are both injured, but not seriously. I think Boom-Boom has her arm broken_, David thought.

From miles away, Jean could hear determination creep into his thoughts.

_Jean, I'm coming after Kurt._

_No, you're not_, Jean thought, _You need to make sure that the children are safe. _

_The children?_ David thought, _Jean, you don't understand. This thing, it doesn't care about the children. It doesn't care about the students. It cares about Luna and Max because it's Sinister's crony. For some reason it cared about my brother and Remy too. They're gone: it got what it came for!_

_Please, don't do anything rash, _Jean thought.

_Rash? I think that I've left rash behind in my thinking right now._

_David, please think about this,_ Jean said, _We can save them. We're already here. You're at the camp. You're the only one who can rally the rest of the students and get them to safety._

There was a long pause.

_So now this maniac has my whole family and I'm not allowed to do anything?_ David snapped.

_I'm asking for patience_, Jean said, _We need you to refrain from coming. It's already confused enough with so many people here. David, please. _

She could hear the conflict in David's thoughts when he answered.

_I'm going to stay in your mind,_ he thought, _and I'll leave when you save my family. I need to see this Jean. _

_Understood,_ Jean thought, _You're going to have to keep the connection up. _

_No problem._

Jean detached herself from the wall. She could see the rest of them staring at her.

"Something attacked the camp," she said, "Gambit, Kurt, and Luna were taken."

Mystique's eyes widened. Alex shoved past her and moved to the front of the group.

"I'm going to kill him," he snarled, "And this time, I'm going to damn well make sure he stays dead."

The lights went off.

"Pity. I'd hate to have to harm you Alexander."

Jean pressed herself up against the wall again, looking to orientate herself.

"Did you really think that you could just come down here, try to take me out like I'm some common criminal? You've all forgotten who I am."

There was a noise at the other end of the hallway. Jean took a small flashlight out of her utility belt. She saw a flash of metal before something tackled Logan, sending him into the wall.

In the dim light Ororo ran forward, kicking it in the stomach. It turned, two metal wings unfolding behind it.

"Warren?" Ororo murmured.

Jean gasped. Although his skin was blue and his wings were metal, it was unmistakably Warren. Jean saw him stare at Ororo before the blue diamond on his forehead lit up. Warren began to yell, but the sound was abruptly silenced.

He lunged at Ororo, punching her into the wall. Jean heard her cry out and she put out her hand, trying to hold him back. Ororo was still on the ground, out cold. Magneto stepped forward. Warren's metal wings began to tremble. Together the two of them began pulling him away from where he was.

Other soldiers flooded the hall. Logan launched himself at them, and Alex and Scott's powers encased the hall in a strange red light.

"You've all done me a disservice, insulted me. But then again, I was in jail for so long. Maybe it's time to remind you of who I really am. Or maybe I should tell you something you might not have known. I can't decide."

From the other end of the hall Jean heard heavily armored footsteps. A figure appeared there in green plated armor. The figure jerked its head and Warren was set free. He slashed his wings out, the sharp pieces of metal cutting those nearest to him.

Warren reached out and grabbed Toad by the throat. Casually, he snapped his neck. Jean thought she heard Magneto say something, but she couldn't hear. There were too many lights, too much noise.

Emma Frost turned into diamond and punched Warren in the face. The armored figure reached Jean. Jean tried to push it away from her, but the armor made the figure too heavy for her to move. She ducked its first blow, but the second sent her to the ground.

"Jean!"

Scott turned on his eyebeams. The figure put an arm in front of its face, blocking the beam of energy. As it did, Alex tackled them, forcing them to the ground. It kicked him off and pushed him into the wall.

His hands glowed with red light. Concentrating the power in his hands he sent out another wave. The figure put up their arms to block it, but it sent them back several steps. Alex took advantage of the distraction to get in close.

He kicked it in the stomach and the figure stumbled. Alex reached for the helmet and tore it off. A wave of green hair poured out. Magneto turned from where he was fighting, and Alex's lips moved wordlessly.

"Lorna?" Alex whispered.

Lorna kicked out, sending him to the floor. She picked Alex up by his throat, lifting him into the air. Her skin was a pale green, highlighted by the deep green crystal set into her forehead. Her mouth was open slightly and she stared at Alex as though trying to remember who he was.

The crystal glowed. She tossed Alex into the wall. Scott moved closer, but Lorna kicked him into the chest and slammed him into the ground.

"Not too hard. We wouldn't want to damage him."

Lorna moved back. Jean struggled to get to her feet. She saw the back door close and looked forward. Something else fell into place at the front of the passage. Her eyes met Logan's: he'd noticed it too.

A pale gas began to fill the room. Jean choked and fell to her feet. The room blurred before her eyes. The soldiers were falling too, but Lorna and Warren stood still and unaffected, staring at them with their dead eyes.

The lights turned back on. Behind the glass Jean could see Sinister.

"Don't worry," he said, "It's just to knock you out. As I said, we wouldn't want to damage you."

Alex struggled to get to his feet, his eyes livid.

"What...did you do...to my wife?" he hissed.

"Just gave her a few adjustments," Sinister said, "Believe me, she wasn't my first choice, but she impressed him."

"Who?" Alex shouted.

Another figure stepped up to the glass. Between the dim light and the gas Jean could barely make him out.

"You all always puzzled me with your willingness to take the easy explanation," Sinister said, "A scientist trying to take over the world? A little out of character, don't you think? I experiment, I improve, but I'm no ruler."

He stepped to the side.

"Which is why I believe introductions should be made," Sinister said, "Teleportation technology brings him here from your little campout. Beautiful really."

The man stepped up to the glass, smirking. He was over six feet, a giant. His skin was gray, covered in blue tattoos. His eyes were glassy, but full of a vicious intelligence. The man's lips, which seemed to run the entire length of his jaw, were blue.

"You've all fought well," the man said, "But you are all in the way of the glorious age I plan to usher in."

The man smiled as black spots clouded Jean's vision.

"The age of Apocalypse," he said.


	52. Chapter 52

August 19, 1992

"They're really not much to look at right now," Sinister said, snapping a collar around Magneto's neck, "They walked right into that last one."

He looked over at Polaris and Archangel. The two of them stood impassively, watching their former comrades get locked up. It was really amusing, and it made him giggle to think about the control they had over them now.

"It was quite an obvious trap really, but I think the sight of their friends made them a little antsy," Sinister said, "They put far too much stock in that: both teams. I don't know why you thought they were such a threat."

"Alone, they might not be much," Apocalypse said, "But think of all the damage that the X-men did by themselves. When the two teams came together, they threw you into prison for two decades."

Sinister nodded, finishing up with the collar.

"You know, Trask did have some lovely ideas," Sinister said, "Funny. He thought he was developing everything to prevent mutants from becoming dominant, when it was really the other way around."

"Human arrogance knows no bounds," Apocalypse said.

Sinister stepped out of the cell and sealed it up behind him. He looked up at the rest of the hanger.

"I wish I could've gotten my hands on McCoy," he said, "These are truly brilliant designs."

"You'll have your chance," Apocalypse said, "But I've found the last horseman."

"Really?" Sinister asked.

He couldn't help but be interested. He knew that Apocalypse tended to pick people that, at first, seemed random. It was only when Sinister had peeled back the first layer, often literally, that he saw why his master did what he did. It was brilliant.

"I want you to get to work on him right away," Apocalypse said.

Sinister gestured around him.

"But what about the little Summers?" Sinister said, "I wanted to do some preliminary tests."

"Luna Summers can wait a few minutes, as can the Neyaphem," Apocalypse said.

Sinister pointed behind him at the cells that the X-men and Brotherhood were sealed in.

"But what about them?" he asked.

"I have an offer to make," Apocalypse said, "As I said, they are fine warriors."

He scratched his chin.

"Then again, there is one matter that I would like to take care of as soon as possible," he said.

"Speak, and I'll get my tools out," Sinister said.

"So eager," Apocalypse said.

"When have I not been?" Sinister asked.

"True enough," Apocalypse said.

He began walking. Sinister hurried to catch up with him.

"So?" he asked, "What is it that you want me to do?"

Apocalypse smiled.

"I think that it's time that we give our dear Charles Xavier a little visit," he said.

Sinister broke out into a grin. He'd been looking forward to this. It was like he was getting ready to see a long-lost child again.

* * *

Moira was just beginning to stir from her sleep when the door opened. Charles looked up as Sinister walked in, followed closely by the man that Charles had fought in the school. Two soldiers flanked them.

"Take the woman, leave him," the man said.

Charles held onto Moira, glaring at the two men. He knew that he wasn't going to be strong enough, but he held onto her anyway. She was yanked from his arms. The soldiers dragged her out of the room. Her eyes were fixed on him, struggling to focus as she was taken from him.

"What are you doing?" Charles said.

Sinister laughed and the man merely inclined his head. He stepped behind the glass door. It shut immediately. The soldiers dragging Moira out left, shutting and locking a different door. The man gestured to her.

"I'm moving her next door," he said.

Sinister knelt by Moira and began fishing things out of his pocket.

"Don't you dare touch her!" Charles shouted.

Sinister laughed again. He pulled out a syringe and tapped it. The man moved forwards.

"I like to think of myself as a forgiving man," the man said, "For a long time none of this was personal. It was simply a quest to discover whether or not I was necessary to the world, or if I should go back to waiting."

He looked at the syringe that Sinister held before turning back to Charles.

"My faithful servant was simply trying to figure out if the time was right," the man said.

Charles thought of the man with the gray skin and the blue tattoos. Sinister laughed again, and it unnerved him.

"Charles Xavier. Son of a British mother and a father who was a member of New York's elite," the man said, "Graduated from Cambridge. You were talked about for a long time in many academic circles. The young man with such strange but brilliant ideas. Your teachers expected great things from you. In a way, they were right."

Charles narrowed his eyes.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"The name Apocalypse is as good as any," Apocalypse said.

He crossed his arms.

"If it helps, know that I think of you as a worthy opponent," he said, "You have a warrior's spirit, trapped inside a broken body. I am impressed with the effort you put into fighting me, even though you didn't know it was me that you were fighting. No doubt you thought that you were fighting intolerance or hate, or some generalized idea like that. Just like a philosopher."

Behind Apocalypse Sinister put the syringe down. Moira was starting to stir, but Charles could see that she was still drugged heavily.

"Years ago I deemed the world ready, and was marshaling my forces in South America," Apocalypse said, "But you, a group of children led by a woman and a cripple, destroyed all of that. Then, when I hired Black Tom to get your team out of the way, you survived again. It's an annoying thing you do."

He waved his hand.

"Then you had my chief scientist locked up for twenty years," Apocalypse said, "That was vexing to say the least."

His eyes narrowed.

"Because of you, my plans were thwarted, and I'm just starting out when I should have ruled for several years," he said, "Because of you, I had to watch everything crumble time and time again. Your pets were responsible for the destruction of several of Sinister's hosts. Do you know just how difficult it is to transfer him to a different host? It's very painful to push his consciousness into another one. They have to be groomed for years."

He shook his head.

"You have come so close to ruining me," Apocalypse said, "All for a helpless dream of coexistence. I'm older than you Xavier, and I have seen the world fear and hate what it does not understand. Your hopes are woefully misplaced. I resent that forced naivety in a mind that's as brilliant as yours."

He put his hands behind his back.

"Do you know why you're here Xavier? Why you're really here?"

Sinister found a mask from his pocket and began putting it on. Apocalypse did the same.

"You need to be contained, that's true enough," Apocalypse said, "I'm of two minds as to whether or not you'll be killed. I might have a use for you. However, the only person I really needed was your wife. Her and your...son."

Charles felt cold.

"What have you done?" he asked.

"I've had this Kurt taken from the camp where the rest of your rats are staying," Apocalypse said, "You see, I know who his father really is. Sinister is something of an expert on the x-gene. You can pretend that he's your son as much as you want, but he carries the DNA of one of the last Neyaphems. And your Archangel, of course, is one of the last Cheyarafims. See, he has healing blood because that's one of their traits. It's one of the reasons why I chose him as my herald of death. That and his impressive desire to die honorably in Boston."

Sinister smiled in the back. Apocalypse inclined his head towards him.

"Perhaps you would like to explain the next part," Apocalypse said.

"Neyaphems have poisonous blood," Sinister said, his voice gleeful, "Or, in the right dose, they have blood that can cause strong hallucinogenic visions, weaken minds. It's very difficult to dominate your pets, and I need to find a way solidify control over them. He's selected Polaris and Archangel to be two of the heralds of his new age. What's an apocalypse without horsemen?"

He smiled.

"Of course, I'm one in a way," he said, "I suppose I'm famine, going throughout the land and harvesting those worthy of it."

Sinister finished putting his mask on.

"After your son's been bled like a stuck pig, I'm going to dissect him," Sinister said, "As for your other son, the crazy one, he'll be doused with his brother's blood and end up as one of Apocalypse's pets."

Charles glared at him, his nails digging into the floor.

"You're too strong to control," Apocalypse said, "But I believe that your son might be a little easier to influence."

"You underestimate him," Charles said, "You underestimate both of them."

"I'm sure," Apocalypse said, "But the question you should be asking is this: just what are we doing with your wife?"

Sinister plunged the needle into her arm. Moira jerked in a spasm.

"Moira!" Charles cried.

"You don't credit me with very much intelligence," Sinister said, "If you did, you would have wondered why I'd waste my virus on a human. The answer is that I was incubating it, letting it get to its full strength."

He tilted his head. Charles kept breathing, feeling the panic start to well up in him.

"The true brilliance of the Legacy virus is that it's harvested from the DNA of the original mutants," Sinister said, "Even my master believes that the Summers might have preceded him. Like the machine I gave Magneto, the virus is meant to change humans to mutants."

His eyes became dreamy.

"Of course, most humans won't survive this process. Even most mutants won't survive coming into contact with it," Sinister said, "But the surviving population will be desperate for a savior."

"Something like that," Apocalypse said, amused.

"The original plan was, of course, to harvest it from her corpse," Sinister said, "You stopped that, but even when cured my virus was designed to exist within the DNA. You neutralized it, but you didn't make it go away."

He pulled the syringe out. It was filled with black fluid. Next to him Moira began to breath harshly. She was fully awake now, but she started coughing. Charles wanted to scream. Not again.

"Moira," Charles said.

Charles grabbed at the floor, pulling himself so he was up against the glass. To his horror he saw black webbing around Moira's eyes.

"As a side affect, it will become active in her again," Sinister said, "Although, this time I imagine that it will take longer to make its way through her system."

Sinister got up. Apocalypse inclined his head.

"That's my retribution," he said, "Nothing happens to you. Not until you see your wife and sons die or become enslaved. After that, you get to watch everything you've worked for fall apart. Then, and only then, do I decide what to do with you."

Apocalypse tapped the glass.

"This will become soundproof in a few minutes," he said, "And, with the band neutralizing your powers, you're going to have to watch her die in silence. I did say that the dalliances between gods and mortals were foolish. I think I forgot to mention that they often end in tragedy."

Sinister got up. He left along with Sinister. A second later Moira's coughs and struggling breaths were silenced. Charles reached out in anguish for his wife. All that met his hand was the cold glass.


	53. Chapter 53

August 19, 1992

"I lost contact," David said.

"What?" Rogue cried.

"I lost contact," David repeated.

He sat down, his eyes wide. He'd seen the monster that had stepped beside Sinister. He breathed in, thinking about everything that he knew about Sinister. He'd been behind bars since David was a child, but one of the acts that had put him there had been the attempted murder of David's mother. He was an insane boogeyman, something that both the X-men and the Brotherhood despised. He was an entity by himself, someone working only for his own means.

Now there was someone that he respected, listened to, took orders from. The idea was a horrible one. On his orders he'd managed to take two X-men, people who had been fighting the good fight for years, people that David had respected, and turned them into his slaves.

David stared at the ground in front of him, his hands digging into his arms. The idea that they were in a 'bad situation' seemed inadequate some how.

"What are we going to do?" Max said.

"Did you see Kurt?" Amanda said.

David continued to stare at the ground.

_So now the boogeyman kills your family. What fun!_

"David!" Max said.

David looked up.

"I'm thinking," David said.

"You're thinking, great," Max said, "We're all thinking! That thing has my sister!"

David rolled his eyes. Amanda was still looking desperately at him, hoping for some sliver of news. It was making his head pound.

"Did you hear me?" Max asked.

"Yes, he has your sister. And, unfortunately, the rest of your family too," David said.

His words came out harsher than he'd intended. Max took a step back, his face crumbling.

"And my family," David said, "And, not to put too fine a point on it, everyone's family. And no, I didn't see my brother!"

David saw Amanda take a step back, biting her lip. He looked at everyone else. Clarice was barely propped up. Calvin had braced her ribs and put a splint on Boom-Boom's arm. Rogue seemed almost shattered. Terry, who hadn't been able to get there fast enough to aid them, was looking curiously at David. Deadpool stood behind her, waiting.

Sharon was there too, with her hand on Rahne's shoulder. Rahne was supposed to have gone after the group that would have taken Max and Luna to safety. Instead she'd come into the area in time to see the destruction that Apocalypse had left.

He wanted to say something to Sharon. He knew that she was worried about him, and he wanted to go back to a few hours back when he'd been asleep with his arms around her, oblivious to the future.

There was no way to go back in time now. They all wanted him to do something. He had no clue why. He wasn't even an X-man. Terry, she had been an X-man. Calvin and Clarice had been X-men. Why did the responsibility fall to him?

Were they looking at him because who he was? He wasn't his father's son. It hadn't taken him long to figure that out. David wasn't quick to forget or forgive. He had hated his father for years because of a mistake that was no one's fault. David had put his energies into becoming a lawyer, someone who fought with words in safe rooms. He wasn't some general. He didn't know what to do.

He felt an irrational anger. Why did the burden of his family's legacy have to fall on his shoulders? His father had never wanted him to take up his mantle, had never wanted him to live his life embroiled in his war. Why did he have to do it now?

_You're just too unstable for it._

David gritted his teeth, trying to take deep breaths. The voices seemed like they were getting louder. For almost two weeks he had enjoyed some respite from them. It had been enough to convince him that he was getting better, that he was doing things for a good reason and a good cause.

He looked at his hands. Although they were empty, it felt as though they were full. For some reason or another, the burden had fallen on him. He had no idea why, but it was his now. He had to do something with it. His whole family was in danger.

Hadn't he just been telling Jean that he wanted to come in and help? Of course, he'd been under the assumption that the X-men would lead him into battle. He didn't really know what he was doing if he was supposed to lead by himself.

He looked at everyone again, trying to be a bit more critical. Clarice was injured. There was no way she would be able to go into battle and, from the stories, she wasn't a tactician. He remembered watching old videos of Danger Room simulations. She was the agile one, the one that slipped through doors and disarmed things. Now she wouldn't be able to perform that function. Apocalypse had broken too many of her ribs.

Calvin was a good man, but he wasn't a tactician either. He had never led the X-men. If the stories about him were true, he'd looked up to Scott with something akin to hero worship. He was good at fighting fights, at being a good man, but he wasn't much of a thinker.

The rest of them were new to this. Sharon hadn't been trained and Rahne was just staying close to her friend. Max was trained but brash. A few hours ago Amanda hadn't even known that her lover had a family full of freedom fighters.

Which brought him to Terry and Deadpool. Deadpool was obviously waiting for someone, probably anyone, to do anything. He wasn't a member of the X-men, and he knew that he wasn't very bright. He also heard voices and was something of a sociopath.

Why was Terry standing there though, looking at him and waiting? She was trained. She'd gone on missions for a long time with her father and the rest. He knew she was bossy, that she had the leadership skills necessary to take charge.

Was it because of her voice? Was she too scared of having to give orders without a voice? David looked at her, trying to figure it out. Could it be her voice? Could it really be holding her back like that?

Terry met his eyes. It wasn't her voice. One look into her eyes told him that. Why then? Why was she passing this burden onto him? He hadn't asked for it, didn't deserve it, wouldn't even be able to carry it.

Yet, she was looking at him. After a moment he realized she was looking at him because she believed he could do it. For whatever reason, she was ceding to him because she thought that he would be better as the leader.

He could almost hear her voice in his head.

_You've been scarred, but so have many of us. Maybe it's time you started to think of yourself as the person you could be, rather than the one you see yourself as. _

David looked at her, feeling a little scared. What did she see in him that was capable of leadership?

_Try to see yourself through the eyes of the people who love you: it's a much better sight than you think._

"Okay," he heard himself say, "Clarice and Calvin, you guys stay back here and make sure that the rest of the students make it to safety. Tell Hank what's going on. I'm not sure what good it will do, but tell him. Boom-Boom, make sure that they have cover."

"Where are you going?" Calvin asked.

"I'm going after Sinister," David said, "And anyone who wants to come is welcome. We should probably invite Piotr too: he seemed to do pretty well in the fight back there. The rest should help guard the students."

Max's face lit up. Rogue looked down at her hands, her expression determined. David saw that Rahne looked apprehensive, but Sharon was giving him a look of admiration. Terry nodded her head slightly.

Calvin shook his head though.

"David, you need people who are trained with you," he said, "Scott had all of the X-men with him, and he still didn't make it. How could you do it with a bunch of kids? You need to at least let us come with you."

"You're injured," David said.

There was a strange clarity in his voice when he spoke. He understood what he needed to do.

"He's not thinking about the students right now, which is why we need to get them out," he said, "But he's going to think about them sooner or later. Likewise, he's not thinking about us. He has the X-men. We're not even the beta team. We'll surprise him."

"It's risky," Clarice said.

"Best type of plan," Deadpool said.

"It's all we've got," David said.

"This is ridiculous," Calvin said, "Most of you are still in your pajamas for goodness sake!"

David shrugged.

"I have some ideas about that," he said, "But I need to know whether or not you're onboard."

Calvin opened his mouth, but Clarice held up a hand. She gave David a long look.

"Do you think that you can pull this off?" she asked.

He had to be honest.

"I don't know," he said, "Maybe."

Clarice put her hand down.

"David, my best friends are trapped in there, people who took me in when no one else would," she said, "They were some of the best soldiers I've ever seen. But they were captured and now you're proposing to lead a team of untrained children in to rescue them. The youngest among you is fifteen, and the oldest is in their mid-twenties."

"I'm older than that lady," Deadpool said.

"I don't count you. You're crazy," Clarice said.

She kept her eyes on David.

"You need to understand that if you go in there and get captured, then it's likely that everyone is going to die," she said, "Calvin and I will try to come after you. We'll even get Hank involved, but that mission would be even more suicidal than this one. Yet you're very confident. Is there something that I should know?"

David fell silent. He could see that Clarice wanted an answer, and it would have to be a good one.

"Right now I'm starting to get the idea that Apocalypse is powerful enough to take down an army," he said, "The only weapons you can have against something like that is surprise. That's all we have, and if we don't act fast, we're going to lose it. Beyond that, we're all a surprise."

He gestured to the rest of the group.

"None of us have fought in a real battle before, so that means that there isn't any real data on us," David said, "They don't know what we're capable of. That's all we have Clarice. It's the only chance we have to rescue our families, because he has all of them."

David breathed in.

"My father always taught us to make our stand," he said, "I have a feeling that Magneto felt the same thing, but they chose to stand at different places. My father stood his ground to protect people. My mother, a human, gave her life to a cause that wasn't her own out of love and compassion. Max's father and his mother, and Sharon's father, and Terry's, they all decided what they wanted the world to be and fought for it. They made a choice to protect the world for as long as they could."

He met her eyes.

"But they can't protect it right now," he said, "And that means that the burden, for good or ill, falls to us. It's time for the next generation to follow up on our legacy."

Clarice continued to look at him, but he saw something different in her eyes. David saw respect there, and he swallowed. It was easy to talk like that, but he knew that it was going to be more difficult to follow through.

"What do you intend to do about the pajamas?" she said at last.

David laughed.

"The Blackbird still carries extra uniforms, doesn't it?" he asked.


	54. Chapter 54

August 19, 1992

Kurt woke up, groaning. He knew he was underground somewhere: that was the only explanation for the flickering light. He vaguely remembered being taken, and the new surroundings were only lending credence to that theory.

A few feet away Luna was out, her hands curled by her head. Kurt forced himself upwards and checked her for injuries. She seemed fine, and blearily opened her eyes when Kurt touched her head.

"Luna?" he asked.

She nodded and looked around. He put an arm around her and winced. His arms felt like they were on fire, almost as though they had been bitten by something millions of times. He adjusted his eyes to the light and turned them over to get a good look at them.

There were several angry puncture marks on them. It looked like someone had been sticking him with needles. He pushed himself up so he was in a seated position and tried to get a good look. He had to teleport out before he found out just why someone had been drawing his blood.

A collar rattled around his neck. Kurt touched it, but he managed to get a good look outside of the container. He cemented his grip on Luna and tried to teleport the two of them out, but the collar started beeping. He stayed in place as he desperately tried to teleport.

"It shocks you if you try too much. You should probably stop."

He looked over at his shoulder. Mystique was looking at him from a different cell. Her golden eyes looked tired. Kurt wondered how many times she'd tried to use her powers while she waited.

He took his hand off the collar and winced. He swallowed. He didn't really want to talk to Mystique, for a couple of reasons, but there didn't seem to be anyone else to get information from. Luna had obviously been out for that time, and she seemed terrified.

"Did you all get captured?" he asked.

"All of us," Mystique said, "A couple of your X-men got turned, mind control or something similar. They're going around working for Sinister now. Him and someone called Apocalypse."

"Damn," Kurt muttered.

He tapped his collar.

"Which ones?" he asked.

"Archangel and Polaris," Mystique said.

She said Lorna's codename like it was a filthy word. Luna's eyes widened.

"Mom..." she said.

"Hey, it's okay," Kurt said.

He knew it wasn't, but he didn't know what else to say. He gave Mystique a warning look before he continued talking.

"Have you seen Gambit?" he asked, "He got taken too."

"I haven't, no. Most of us got separated," Mystique said, "I'm surprised that Sinister didn't want Luna close though. She's a Summers."

Her voice was dismissive. He puled Luna closer.

"She's a child," Kurt said.

"So are you," Mystique said.

"Not really," Kurt mumbled.

He knew he sounded petulant, but he couldn't help it. Mystique smiled and Kurt just shook his head.

"Never mind," he said, "Have you seen my parents?"

The smile faltered a bit on Mystique's face. Kurt didn't want to think about what that could mean. Not when he'd spent so much of his life trying to avoid it.

"I haven't, no," she said, "But I have a feeling we're all part of some plan somewhere."

She gestured to his arms.

"They were drawing a lot of blood from you," she said.

"Why?" Kurt asked, "I'm not special genetically."

Mystique opened her mouth. She closed it and looked away.

"A couple of years ago, someone told me a story about two subsets of mutants that were secluded in the mountains," she said, "They were called Neyaphem and Cheyarafim. They evolved to hunt each other. The Cheyarafim developed blood that could heal. The Neyaphem developed blood that could be used as a poison."

"That's not a reason to go around drawing blood from every mutant you come in contact with," Kurt said.

Mystique hesitated again.

"Neyaphem are supposed to look like demons," she said.

Kurt looked up at her.

"Kurt's not a demon," Luna muttered.

"Of course he's not," Mystique said.

Her expression softened.

"He looks fine," she said.

Kurt looked at her for a long time. He could almost feel the scar on his hand, a tangible anchor to another life. The door swung open at the end of the hall and the man from the camp walked in.

"Apocalypse," Mystique murmured.

Lorna walked in behind him. Kurt's eyes widened when he saw her. Her skin was tinged green and her eyes were vacant. Luna whimpered. He knew what was bothering her: the woman in front of them looked nothing like the woman who had raised her.

Her lack of a reaction to Luna was most telling though. Kurt immediately looked at Apocalypse.

"This is what you do to people?" he asked, "Is that the only way you can get them to fight for you?"

Mystique's eyes widened but Apocalypse smiled.

"The best of the best are often stubborn," he said.

He gestured to Lorna.

"She's an exquisite design for a soldier," Apocalypse said, "Trained since a young age to fight, her powers developing early. She's a little out of practice, having strangely settled down, but she's still rather promising. With Sinister's augmentations, she'll be one of my best generals."

"My mom's not gonna fight for you!" Luna said.

Kurt looked at her. She had wiggled out from under his arm and was on her feet. She pointed a trembling finger at Apocalypse.

"She's not gonna," Luna said, "She's better than that."

Apocalypse laughed and walked up to the wall of the cell. Kurt immediately grabbed Luna's hand and pulled her back.

"You think her so saintly, don't you?" he asked, "I know what she did in the Brotherhood."

"She didn't know better," Luna said, "She does now."

Her voice was steadying with each word. Kurt didn't know what had gotten into her.

"Well, if you explain it that way, then how do you explain your grandfather?" Apocalypse asked.

Luna furrowed her brow. Apocalypse smiled to himself.

"It appears that there's more than one family here with secrets," he said.

He looked at Kurt.

"Your blood was useful. Sinister's developing a serum even as we speak," Apocalypse said, "But I must admit, there is one thing that I have to ask."

Kurt didn't say anything, but he held Luna tighter. He didn't know if the man in front of them had a breaking point when it came to his temper.

"Did you ever share any blood with your brother?" Apocalypse asked.

Kurt blinked, the question catching him off guard.

"What?" he asked.

"Your father and brother are both accomplished telepaths," Apocalypse said, "The incident at the hotel was of great interest to me. We had originally orchestrated it to get your father out of the way, but secondary agents are so unreliable. I had some of Sinister's associates follow-up on it. He said your brother hears voices. Your father should have been able to cut them off, and when your brother's powers entered into maturity he should have been able to banish them entirely. But he didn't."

He scratched his chin.

"I was simply wondering if he'd been exposed to your blood," Apocalypse said, "If he had, then it would explain why he was unable to fight them. The mind-weakening affects of your blood would have made them a little stronger. Your blood can stay in the system for years you know, and it doesn't take much to get in. Perhaps exposure through an open cut, something like that?"

Kurt felt the scar on his hand burning into him.

_"We're gonna be blood brothers after this, okay? You have my blood, and I have yours. And I have mom and dad's blood in me. So this means that you have our parents' blood too now. We all share blood. Understand?"_

"Oh my God," Kurt whispered.

It was his fault. His brother's mental illness, it was his fault.

"I see," Apocalypse said.

"Stop it."

Apocalypse turned. Mystique was standing up in her cell. Even through the haze in his own mind Kurt could see her defiance.

"What purpose does this serve?" she asked, "Is this something to do with your pride? Or is this your way of asserting dominance?"

He strolled over to her. Mystique continued to stare at him.

"I suppose you think that the Brotherhood is so much better," he asked.

"We don't gloat. Not like this," Mystique said.

He nodded to himself.

"But you are terrible parents," Apocalypse said, "Not that I'd know: my parents left me in the desert. However, it does puzzle me why two members of your order chose to abandon their children."

Mystique gave him a level look. Kurt could see her tremble slightly.

"You really want to go down this path?" she asked.

"Yes," Apocalypse said, his voice mild, "I would like to talk about why you left Kurt over here at your brother's doorstep."

Kurt sagged under the weight of his words. There was too much. David's suffering was his fault, and now he couldn't pretend that he was really his brother. He had lived for years, trying to forget that he was adopted, trusting in the scar on his hand as a promise that it didn't matter. Now that scar was just a sign of how he had ruined something.

"Because it was the best choice," Mystique said.

Her words were strong. She pointed at Lorna.

"She's a perfect soldier, yes," she said, "Maybe I didn't want that for my son."

"And you left him with your brother, why?" Apocalypse asked.

"Because I couldn't give him that chance, and he could," Mystique said.

She tilted her chin up.

"You might be able to guilt someone else with that, but you can't guilt me," Mystique said, "I didn't do anything wrong. I made the hard choice, but it was the best one. Kurt might be as naïve as my brother now, but as far as I can tell he's grown up well. He's the type of person I can be proud of-"

"And who will undoubtedly perish in my new world," Apocalypse said, "If things had been different, he'd be standing behind me instead of Polaris."

"And that's why I did it," Mystique said.

She looked at Kurt, almost as though hoping he would understand. Kurt didn't say anything. He kept his eyes on the wall in front of him, trying to gain some semblance of right.

"Stop it!" Luna said.

She looked at her mother.

"Mom, make him stop!" Luna cried.

Lorna's eyes focused. She made a faltering step towards Luna, her hand reaching out. Apocalypse glared at her and the crystal on her forehead glowed. Lorna winced before returning to her position of standing at attention.

"One more thing before I go," Apocalypse said.

He opened the door to the cell Kurt was in. Kurt quickly gathered enough sense to try to put Luna behind him, but Apocalypse batted him to the floor. He grabbed Luna's hand and dragged her out of the cell, slamming the door.

"Luna!" Kurt shouted.

"Kurt! Mom!" Luna said.

She reached for Lorna again. Lorna's eyes widened and the crystal glowed. Tears welled in Lorna's eyes, but she didn't do anything.

"You're a gift to Sinister," Apocalypse said, "A reward for his hard work."

He smiled.

"On one side, you're the descendent of the longest line of mutants known to man, the Summers," he said, "On the other side you're descended from Magneto, one of our races' greatest products."

Luna's mouth dropped open.

"I imagine there are a lot of secrets to be gleaned from your DNA," Apocalypse said.

"She's just a child!" Kurt yelled.

Apocalypse dragged Luna out, Lorna following close behind.

"So were we all at one point," Apocalypse said, "But time goes on."

He shut the door behind him, leaving Kurt and Mystique alone in the room.


	55. Chapter 55

August 19, 1992

_You look a lot like your father did in the old pictures._

David smiled and Terry knew that she'd said the right thing. It looked like he'd needed it. He seemed uncomfortable in the uniforms that they had found. She had never been a fan of the high collars herself. While Terry stayed in her SHIELD tactical gear the rest had suited up as well.

Sharon had tied her hair back and had offered to do the same for Rahne. Rahne looked nervous, her eyes darting repeatedly out the window. She was uncomfortable with her new environment, but they needed as many ferals as they could get. Max seemed too angry to think about anything other than the mission, and she hoped that he calmed down before they got to the Institute. Piotr seemed to be keeping his head well.

Amanda was the oddest one to see. To Terry's surprise she had volunteered to come along. There had been a hushed argument between her and David, but it appeared that she'd won. David had assured her that Amanda was an acrobat, that she probably had more training than Sharon in some respects, and definitely more experience than Rahne. It was odd to think of a human member of the X-men though. Moira had been support: not combat.

Sharon gave Amanda a knowing look as she went to the front of the plane. She was going to be driving. Terry had always crashed the simulations, and Sharon seemed familiar with the plane and most of its special features.

"So, when we get there," Sharon said, "What's the plan?"

"A distraction on the front lawn, and we enter through the basketball courts," David said, "The hanger's underneath there."

"That's...weird," Rahne said.

"Going in through the front door won't work," David said, "They might be down in the tunnels: I can't imagine him using the students' rooms for some reason. I'll do a quick mental count, and if I'm wrong, we'll do a standard entrance: one group in the front, one in the back, and one through the roof."

He shook his head as he sat down.

"Really don't want to do that," he said.

"Why not?" Max said.

"Because it's the most logical course, something Scott or Alex would've done," David said, "Seeing how they didn't win, I have the feeling something might've gone wrong with that."

Max fell silent.

"Okay, now that we have that question answered," David said, "We should have some people acting as a distraction in the plane and on the ground while the rest of us sneak in. They can assume that the rest of us are on the plane."

"Who's staying where?" Rahne asked.

"Well, I have the feeling that Deadpool's good at being distracting," David said dryly.

"Best there is!" Deadpool said.

He gave a thumbs-up.

"He'll be on the lawn with someone else," David said, "I haven't decided who yet, and Sharon, you're in the plane."

She gave him a withering look. He shrugged helplessly.

"You're the only one who really knows how to fly it," he said.

She nodded, but she still didn't look happy. David glanced briefly at Terry.

_How do you feel about working with Deadpool?_ he thought.

_Fine,_ she thought back, _Just fine._

David looked like he didn't believe her, but he directed his gaze towards his buckle.

"Terry will be on the front lawn," he said, "She's a good fighter, and she should work as good back-up. If we need back-up, we'll call you. If not, we'll meet you all on the front."

Terry nodded and sat down in the back. She saw Sharon give her a worried look, and Terry just smiled. There was too much about her situation to adequately communicate it without a notebook of paper or David as an intermediary. It was easier just to smile.

Deadpool sat down next to her. Terry looked at him out of the corner of her eye. His head was facing forward, not even glancing at her.

"Everyone buckled in?" Sharon asked.

There were a few murmurs of assent. Rogue closed her eyes and clasped her hands in front of her. Terry wondered if she was deep in thought or praying.

"Then hold on," Sharon said, "We should be near the school in a few minutes. I'll drop them off first, and then we'll loop back to the front of the school."

Terry nodded and thought about her father. He had always trained her to know what to do in these situations. She felt a little scared going into full-fledged combat without her voice. No matter what she had told everyone who'd asked, she was disconcerted to know that she was without her greatest weapon.

Her father had taught her to be more than her voice though. Terry could remember her initial combat lessons, trying to imitate her father. Even then she'd wanted to grow up to be a SHIELD agent, be like him, fight with him.

Terry had never fought Sinister. He'd been locked up since before she'd reached fifteen. He had been something in the past, and Terry had never looked at her past too closely. She could still remember the chilling way that he had looked over her, judging whether or not she was fit for experimentation.

He had her father though. That meant that she wasn't going to be afraid. She was going to get him back by any means necessary, because that's what he'd do for her. It wasn't more complicated than that.

The plane began to rumble. She knew it was lowering.

"If you're on David's team, I suggest you get out now," Sharon said.

There was a flurry of buckles being slung back. David got up from the control panel and rested his head by Sharon's armrest. He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. Terry looked away, trying not to invade their privacy.

"Watch yourself," he said.

"Don't be dumb again," Sharon said, staring forward, "I'm smarter than you. I'll be fine. Just rescue your brother and the rest, and leave some ass for me to kick when I get down there."

David laughed.

"I love you Sharon," he said.

"I love you too," she said.

The hatch doors opened and the ramp unfolded. David turned and left the plane, along with the rest of his small team. Terry wondered if she was going to see him again. He was one of her oldest friends, and he was going off into a dangerous situation with a handful of green children.

In many ways, he was still green himself. He'd been in a few fights and Danger Room simulations, but they weren't anywhere near the same league as this operation. He looked at her over his shoulder. If he had any doubts about his predicament, they didn't show in his eyes.

_Good luck_, he thought.

_Good luck to you too_, she thought.

He left and the hatch folded up. Terry began to think about her own part in the mission. She couldn't help but look at the front of the plane. Sharon was still looking forward, and Terry admired her courage. She thought she saw one of her hands shake a little as she began the take-off sequence, but it was steadied easily.

Perhaps it was part of who they were, the children of the X-men. They had all grown up with some sort of adversity or another. They had been lost, hurt, watched their parents charge into battle. David had been right when he'd talked about them having a massive legacy to live up too, but there was also a legacy that they had been building for the ones who came after them.

It was a legacy to keep trying. Terry just hoped that their legacy wasn't going to end before it began.

"Terry, I screwed up."

Instinctively she looked at Deadpool. She tried not to think of him as Wade, it was too painful. He wasn't looking at her, but she'd heard his words clearly. Her eyes glanced up at Sharon. Terry knew she had enhanced hearing, but Sharon was ignoring them.

Amanda was sitting a row up, and there was no way she could hear. Even so, Terry didn't acknowledge his words. She looked out the window instead. Terry heard him sigh.

"There's not much else ta say about that," he said, "I mean, I left, didn't I? It wasn't...I just wanted..."

There was another pause.

"I wanted to kill her for hurting you. You nearly died. Did they tell you that? Did they tell you how close it was?" Deadpool asked, "Before the medics came you were just bleeding everywhere and you weren't answering me..."

She closed her eyes, trying to keep the tears in.

"I wanted her dead for that," Deadpool said, "But I didn't chase after her when one of your teachers told me to stay behind and tell you. Doesn't that count for something?"

She wanted to turn and tell him no, but she heard him sigh.

"Thought not," he muttered, "Why would it? I wanted to leave because it was my fault. And...I knew then that you wouldn't want me to, but I did it anyway. Because it's always gotta be about me, huh?"

Terry wanted to nod, but she couldn't bring herself too. There wasn't enough anger.

"You needed me, and I'm sorry," he said, "There's not anything else that I can say beside that. Except..."

He made a noise in the back of his throat.

"I saw ya earlier huggin psychic-boy," Deadpool said, "And before ya call me jealous, or something stupid, I know it wasn't like that. I just know that...I know that it should've been me doin that. Your father's been captured, and he's always been a bastard ta me, but he loves you and...damn I'm bad at this, but I'm sayin that I should've been the one ya coulda turned to."

Terry bit her lip. He should have been.

"In short, I know that I shouldn't get a shot at makin it up ta ya, but I'd like one," he said.

She turned to him then, letting him see the raw pain in her face for the first time. She moved her lips carefully, making sure that he would be able to read her lips.

_I need more than that._

He looked at her helplessly.

"What more?" he asked.

_More,_ she lipped.

He looked down and Terry felt the tears coming back again. She had to stand firm. She had spent the first seven years of her life recieving pain from people she should have been able to depend on. Terry wasn't going to let that happen again.

Terry began to turn away, feeling failure in her. She had tried to accept the man next to her. Now he wouldn't accept her need to at least have what they were acknowledged. He couldn't be ignorant to her meaning. Terry had never asked for it before, just waited and hoped. She'd thought that, if he'd really thought about it, he'd find the courage to tell her. She'd been wrong.

"Guys, I'm dropping you off," Sharon said, "I'll give you as much air support as I can, but the Blackbird wasn't built for aggressive maneuvers. I have a few ideas though. It was always late whenever I was studying dad's blueprints, and they helped me fall asleep."

Sharon cracked her neck as Terry unbuckled. She got up and stood by the hatch, holding onto one of the handles that hung from the ceiling.

"Want me to land or-?" Sharon asked.

"We can jump," Deadpool said, "It's only like, what, five feet? We got good footwear."

He unbuckled and stood by Terry. The hatch doors began to open and she looked down.

"Terry, I want another chance because I love you."

The words came out in a rush. Terry turned to him as the wind blew around them. She reached out and yanked his mask up, pressing her lips to his in a kiss. Terry pulled away after a moment, keeping her hand on his cheek.

_I love you too_, she mouthed, _Now let's go kick some ass._

Wade grinned wildly. Grabbing her around her waist they jumped through the hatch doors.

* * *

**_A/N: _**_I may not be able to post for the next few days, so I'm posting two chapters tonight. _


	56. Chapter 56

August 19, 1992

Erik felt someone shake him. He opened his eyes and saw the cell that he was in. It was small, and the glass doors loomed down on him. He turned his head to see who had shaken him, assuming that he had a cellmate.

Alex looked down on him. Although his look was cool, he also seemed a little relieved.

"You're not dead," Alex said, "Good."

Erik pushed himself up. He looked around at the other cells. Thick glass separated them all. He could make out most of the Brotherhood and X-men, although he did note that Mystique was missing.

A collar clattered around his throat. He frowned and touched it.

"It does something to our powers," Alex said, "I've already tried to blast my way out of here."

"Hm," Erik said.

His eyes swept the hall they were in. It felt unfamiliar and new. He supposed that Charles had been at work building since the two had been at the point where they would talk about that. It had been a very long time ago.

Apocalypse and Sinister had not been idle though. The area had obviously been partitioned off into different rooms, including the cells.

"Any sign of Sinister or Apocalypse?" Erik asked.

"None," Alex said.

The hostility in Alex's voice was back in full force. Erik folded his arms and looked into the hall again. He closed his eyes, trying to think. There were too many images swirling around in his head. He took a deep breath.

He focused on a pair of green eyes. They weren't Lorna's though. They were more overworked, a trifle more tired. He focused on the image of Susanna, wondering why his brain picked now of all times to conjure it forth.

She didn't look like she did when he'd last seen her, a woman in her thirties, her skin blackened and charred by the fire that had claimed her life. She wasn't the delicate teenager who'd tried to coax him out of his shell and found a way into his heart either. Instead she looked how he thought she would've looked before the fire had taken her. Perhaps she'd been a little overworked, but he couldn't imagine that she'd stopped smiling.

He had often wondered about her. Much of her information was locked away with the 'what-ifs' of his life. Erik wished she could have told him how she'd survived after finding out she was a single teenage mother, what she'd done. All he knew was that she'd named their daughter after his mother, the only sign that there had never been any bitterness there.

It was a remarkable thought, that she had never hated him. If things had gone differently, she would have been his wife. He would have stayed with her, and they could've raised Lorna together. Instead she'd been the abandoned one, the mother of his child who had struggled for years. There had been no happy ending for her, the only comfort given to her when she died was that her child was going to her father.

It was ironic, considering that Lorna's happy ending had been to leave him. He had thought about that quite a bit since she left, even more after she'd married Alex. In the end he had locked away all memories of her and moved on with his life. The names 'Max' and 'Luna' came up in his thoughts often, but he pushed them away too.

He told himself that it didn't matter what Lorna did with her life, or if she was hurt. She had left. He had no daughter, just some thing that had betrayed him and run away to marry his enemy. It didn't matter what happened to her.

Seeing her in the throes of Apocalypse though, her skin tinged with green and her eyes dead, he knew that for the illusion that it was. Angel had repeatedly told him that he was still Lorna's father, that their relationship was and could be more than what it was. He had ignored her, but there was no ignoring her now. It was ironic really. She was her loudest now that she was dead.

There was too much that he could no longer ignore. He'd seen Max and Luna. He cared about them, cared that they be protected, from the moment he found out who they were. They were his grandchildren, and he didn't want any harm to come to them. He'd heard that Luna had been taken. Someone needed to help her, save her from becoming Sinister's latest pet project.

He pushed himself up further.

"Alex," he said.

Alex turned and looked at him, his expression.

"I'm going to ask you a question," Erik said.

"Not like I'm going anywhere," Alex said.

"How much do you care about Lorna?" Erik asked

Alex narrowed his eyes.

"And if you answer 'More than you' or something equally foolish then I shall seriously doubt your intelligence," Erik said, "I am asking this simply because I need to know where my allies lay."

He saw Alex's mouth open, and held up a hand.

"And if you were to say, 'That's a load coming from you' then I shall once again begin to doubt," Erik said, "I do not ask this question out of hostility or bitterness. As I said, I merely ask because I want to know how far you're willing to go."

Alex gave him a long look.

"For nearly twenty years I've lived my life with her," Alex said, "I've changed my career, and raised two children. I've moved. I know what my life was like before her. It wasn't bad, but I feel absolutely no desire to go back to it."

He laughed.

"I have children, so I know that my life isn't my own," Alex said, "But, as weak as this sounds, part of me would rather die than go on without her."

He crossed his arms and glared at Magneto.

"I may have to repress that one day, but it is damn well not going to be today," he said, "I'm willing to do anything."

"Good," Erik said.

He got up and began inspecting the glass.

"That means that, when we get out of here, I'll have someone in the same frame of mind," Erik said.

"What?" Alex asked.

Erik sighed.

"I'm saying, Alex, that for the first time since you were fifteen, we might actually agree on something," Erik said.

* * *

"Sonuvabitch," David said.

The doors to the hanger were heavier than he'd thought. He put his hands out, trying to use his telepathy to open them. He'd hoped that Piotr would be able to get them open by himself, but they were going to have to use his powers again.

They needed to wait for the distraction though, and that wasn't coming as quickly as he wanted. He could feel the sweat building on his brow and looked over towards the Institute. They were exposed, and soldiers could come out any minute.

"Maybe something happened?" Rahne said, sounding worried.

"Deadpool packs too many explosives to go quietly," David said, "If something happened, we would've heard it."

He wished that, whatever Terry and Deadpool were up to on the front lawn, that they would get on with it. He knew he couldn't hold the doors on the verge of opening them for too long.

"Once we get in there," he said, gritting his teeth, "Max, Piotr, and Rogue are in charge of getting as many prisoners freed as possible. There are two people under Apocalypse's control: Polaris and Archangel, and we're going to need to watch for them."

"You can say their names you know," Max said.

David sighed. He could hear the conflicted emotions in Max's voice. He understood. He wanted to make sure that his parents were alright too.

"Mrs. Summers is a mouthful," David said.

"Alright," Max said, his voice irritated.

"Good," David said, "Most of us don't have the power level to fight that. So if you see them, and you're alone, or if there are only two others with you, run."

He cracked his neck.

"Rahne, you're with me," he said, "I need your help in finding my father, my mother, and my brother. My brother might be with the other prisoners, and my mother might be too. I can't imagine that my father will be with the rest of them though."

"What if my sister's not with the rest of them?" Max asked.

"Then you find your father, and the two of you look for her together," David said.

He looked over at the Institute. Just what was taking the two of them so long?

* * *

Terry finished rigging up the last of the explosives. Part of her felt bad about what she was going to do, but there wasn't much of a choice. It was either destroy the lawn she'd played on as a child, or use a poor distraction to assist her friends.

"Damn, I'm outta plastic explosives," Wade said.

Terry rolled her eyes and unclipped two from her belt. She tossed them to him and he caught them.

"Wow, this is some grade A SHIELD tactical shit," he said, "How'd you convince them to give you this? You weren't even on a tactical mission when we left."

She just tilted her head. He gave her an adoring look.

"See, this is why I love you," he said.

She laughed silently and headed back into the bushes for cover. Wade finished hooking up the last two explosives and followed her. She took out her gun, making sure that it was fully loaded. She loaded her emergency back up and clipped it to her belt.

"You're gonna stick close to me when the fire fight starts, right?" Wade asked.

She smiled. Although she knew what he meant, she wasn't about to acknowledge it. She wasn't a princess to be protected no matter what had happened to her voice, and perhaps she should remind Wade that.

_I won't let the bad boys bruise your widdle toes_, she mouthed.

He laughed.

"God, you're somethin," he said.

He pulled out his detonator and ran a hand over the button.

"Blooie," he said, pressing the button.

* * *

The ground shook as the front lawn of the Institute burst into flame. David watched in shock, his fingertips still shaking from the strain of holding the hanger's doors in position, as the flames leapt higher and higher into the sky.

"Crazy bastard," he said.

Max cleared his throat.

"Is uh, that the signal?" he asked.

"I'm guessing," David said, "They'll certainly be distracted enough."

He closed his eyes.

"We just have to wait a few more minutes, flush out all of the soldiers," David said.

He pushed himself, searching out minds. He brushed up against a few, trying to make sure that everyone was accounted for. David thought that he felt his father's mind, but it couldn't be. He didn't answer when David called to him.

Briefly he went into what he thought was Jean's mind. He saw soldiers thundering down the hallway, heading for the front. He thought he saw Warren as well, his metallic wings tucked in tight to his body. He didn't see Lorna though, but having one go to the front was better than none.

_Terry, Sharon, Amanda heads up_, David thought, _Archangel's coming your way. _

He figured Terry would warn Wade. He didn't want to see what that guy was thinking.

_I've got this_, Sharon thought.

He flexed his fingers and the doors to the hanger opened up. David could make out what looked like a few boxed in rooms and hallways. They all had their own roofs, but it wouldn't take any soldiers long to realize that there was more light coming in.


	57. Chapter 57

August 19, 1992

Sharon saw Archangel approaching before she saw the soldiers. She wasn't sure that she could think of him as Warren. Not when he'd killed Angel, when his eyes were so void of the ease and charm that he'd always exuded.

He took to the air immediately. Sharon had expected him to do something, and she had the feeling that was why David wanted someone in a plane. None of them could fly now that Terry had lost her voice. She had to trust that Terry and Deadpool could take care of the soldiers on the ground. They couldn't take care of Archangel though. Not without her help.

She pushed the accelerator and the Blackbird lurched abruptly forwards. Sharon breathed in as she kept her course. Amanda had her eyes wide open, even though she was gripping her seat's armrests.

For a moment she saw Archangel look in her direction, momentarily puzzled. Perhaps he'd forgotten about the plane, or the engines had been running at an uncommonly quiet level. That moment was all she needed.

The Blackbird rammed into Archangel, sending him sprawling through the air.

"What did you just do?" Amanda yelled.

"I got his attention," Sharon said.

Archangel straightened and stared at her through the glass.

"Wanna play?" she asked.

Archangel charged the plane and Sharon accelerated past him. She did a barrel roll and dived low to the ground. She could hear Amanda muttering something in German. The flames leapt up and she turned up the engines. With any luck she'd create a kind of vacuum. She managed to hit a few of the soldiers and narrowly avoid the flames before taking to the sky again.

She looked down at the radars. Archangel was coming close. She swore to herself, trying to think about the ship's capabilities. Cloaking wasn't going to work in this situation. Not for long, and not when the whole purpose was to get noticed and draw fire.

Sharon looked back down on the radar. Archangel was closing in behind her.

"Amanda, I need you to unbuckle," Sharon said.

"What?" Amanda said.

"I need you to unbuckle and move all the extra cargo to the hatch doors," Sharon said, "Then I need you to come right back up here and buckle up. Okay?"

Amanda gave her an exasperated look before unbuckling. She went to the back and Sharon heard the sounds of crates and boxes being moved. Feeling hurried, she looked at the radars. Archangel was still closing in.

"Amanda!" she yelled.

Amanda ran back to the front of the plane and buckled in. Satisfied, Sharon hit the emergency door release. Air and wind rushed in, tugging on her and trying to pull her out. The buckles held firm.

All of the boxes and crates flew out though. She glanced back and saw Archangel zero in on her before one of the metal crates hit him. He began to fall, but Sharon knew that wasn't going to hold him for long. She'd heard he healed now.

Sharon hit the button that closed the doors. The suction stopped and she breathed in. Although she felt like she'd run a mile, Sharon knew that she didn't have time to rest.

"That was crazy," Amanda said.

"You're going to have to learn to deal with crazy now," Sharon said, "I could tell you some stories-"

A screeching noise interrupted her. The Blackbird jostled forwards and Sharon almost hit her head on the console.

"Verdammit," Amanda muttered.

Sharon looked up. Archangel was in front of the plane, and his eyes were honed in on her.

"Shit," she said.

* * *

Max followed David as they ran along the converted walls of the hanger. It was scary. Max hadn't grown up in the Institute, but he had vague memories playing in the hanger as a child. There was one time, after a mission, that his father had met him there and lifted him onto his shoulders.

Rahne stopped and sniffed the air. She had begun morphing, and her skin was covered with thick brown fur. Most of her features were still human though, and her eyes kept sweeping the area. She was still nervous, but something had happened to her since they had gone in. It was like her survival instincts were kicking in.

"A scent that's like yours is that way," Rahne said to David, pointing down a hallway, "I don't know if it's your parents or your brother."

"They're all good," David said, "And the rest?"

"That way," Rahne said, pointing down the other corridor, "It smells like a lot of people. A lot."

"Right," David said.

He glanced at Rogue.

"Right now you're going into this with nothing," he said.

He took off his uniform's glove and held out his hand.

"Ah...ah shouldn't," Rogue said.

"Just brush my hand," David said, "It might be useful, and it'll help us keep in contact."

"Yah've been usin a lot o energy-" Rogue began.

"I feel fine," David said.

She gave him a doubtful look. Max cleared his throat. He hated what he was about to say, but it needed to be said.

"Do you want to help Remy or not?" he asked.

Rogue's eyes steeled. She brushed David's hand. He stumbled, but managed to stay upright.

"Good," David said, "Contact me telepathically if anything goes wrong. I'll tell you when I find my family, and we'll rendezvous."

He began running down the opposite hallway, Rahne next to him.

"Best of luck!" he said.

Max nodded and began running down his own hallway. It seemed long, but there wasn't anyone there. He didn't like that there weren't a lot of people there: it made him feel edgy. He knew that, in all likelihood, they had gone to respond to what was happening out front.

David had said that his mother was still in there though. She was still under Apocalypse's spell, and he didn't know how to free her. They would have to figure it out, and he knew they would. If all went well then they would have Jean, the Professor, and David working to give his mother her mind back. Emma Frost might even pitch in. They would save her.

"Rahne couldn't be a little more specific?" he said.

"She's under a lotta stress," Rogue said.

"Aren't we all," Piotr said.

Rogue rubbed her temples.

"Max, it's really noisy in David's head," she said.

"Like Piotr said, we're stressed," Max said.

"This was different," Rogue said, "Like lots o people were talkin or somethin."

Max fidgeted. He'd heard that something had happened to David when he was younger, although he didn't know the specifics. He'd been hardly more than a baby when it had happened. Max had thought it best that he didn't pry.

He still felt that way.

"Whatever it was, I'm sure he's got it under control," Max said.

"Why do you say that?" Piotr said.

"Because we can't afford him to not have it under control," Max said.

He turned another corner.

"Not with everything that's happening," he said.

Footsteps made him stop. The three of them ducked into a side hall. Sinister stormed past, dragging Luna. Max moved forward, but the two of them disappeared into a room. He went for the door, but Rogue grabbed his arm.

"What?" Max hissed, "That was Luna!"

"Ah know," Rogue said, "We should listen first though, figure out if somethin's goin on, if there's gonna be an opportunity."

"She's right," Piotr said, "We don't know how many people are in room. We should try to get idea first."

Max ran a hand through his hair and reluctantly nodded. They couldn't waste their chance. They didn't have any chances to waste.

* * *

Erik saw the door open at the far end of the hall. Sinister walked in, dragging Luna behind him. There was a bruise forming on her cheek and she looked scared, but otherwise unharmed. Alex sat up straighter and pressed himself against the glass. Luna looked at him immediately.

"Dad!" she called.

"The grown-ups are talking," Sinister snapped.

He picked her up and held her, her feet dangling in the air. One of his hands was over her mouth as he focused his gaze on Alex. Alex pounded on the glass. Erik kept himself still, his own rage simmering beneath his skin.

"Drop her!" Alex demanded.

"You're really not in any position to make any demands," Sinister said, "Besides, I'm not here to talk to you. I just wanted to shut this thing up. She talks more than you and your brother combined, and you two were chatty."

He looked at Erik.

"Now then," Sinister said, "I come to give you an offer that will not be repeated."

Erik got to his feet.

"You can't say anything that will interest me," he said.

"I disagree, but you haven't heard me first," Sinister said.

"What, wanna get him so you can dissect him at your leisure later?" Logan snarled.

Sinister made a face. He leaned back on a table and pressed a button.

"Now, I've just cut off the comms to the other cells," Sinister said, "We may have to deal with the occasional interruption from your son-in-law, but we'll just have to ignore that."

Luna squirmed and Sinister tightened his grip on her mouth.

"Release her, and we'll discuss this," Erik said.

"You do care," Sinister said, "I thought as much."

He dropped Luna to the ground. She hit the floor hard.

"Luna!" Alex said.

She pushed herself into a kneeling position, her lip cut. Luan tried to scramble away, but Sinister grabbed her arm and jerked her to her feet.

"I can't have her getting away though," Sinister said, "The Summers family can be slippery."

He looked at Erik.

"Now, Apocalypse actually admires the...intelligence, for lack of a better word, that the Brotherhood has portrayed over the years," Sinister said.

"I'm flattered," Erik said, his voice dry.

"You should be," Sinister said, "Because this is an opportunity to join him."

Erik narrowed his eyes.

"You can't be serious," he said.

"But I am," Sinister said, "The X-men have too many morals, and they're blind to what the world really needs to protect mutants. You though, you and the Brotherhood understand. In fact, my master is doing something rather similar to what you wanted to do only a few months ago: make the world into mutants. Sure, most humans will die, and most mutants who come across it, but it's just your method on a larger scale. So my master wants to extend an invitation to join his cause."

Erik could see Emma leaning forward in interest. No doubt Apocalypse was her idea of a strong leader.

"I'm not interested," Erik said.

"You didn't let me finish," Sinister said, "He's willing to offer an incentive."

He jerked Luna's arm, causing her to stumble.

"I'm not going back on what I did to your daughter. It took too long," he said, "But, seeing how I have the Summers brothers now, and since my master commands it, I am inclined to spare your grandchildren."

Erik stared at him. Sinister put a hand underneath Luna's chin and jerked it up.

"She's ten years old," Sinister said, "Too young for a mutation to have manifested, if she has one. I think ten was the age of her mother when you found out she existed, wasn't it?"

He didn't answer. He could see the way that Luna was looking at him, her eyes frightened. At the same time, she was trying to keep that fear in. Her eyes were the same green of her mother and grandmother.

"Your grandson shares a lot of features with you," Sinister said, "Think about it for a moment. You've never cared for your son-in-law or his brother. It's them or your grandchildren and, let's be frank, they won't have a place in Apocalypse's age without some sort of protection. Your grandson wanders free, but for how long?"

Sinister pulled Lorna in front of him.

"I haven't run the tests that I want to on her yet," Sinister said, "She might last a month, maybe two if I'm careful. Do you really want that?"

Erik breathed in. He let his eyes hover over to Alex, whose gaze was fixed on Luna, who was looking back at him. His fists were clenched and Erik could feel the same feelings bubbling up inside of him. Apocalypse was going too far. Even Erik recognized this. Anyone who would knowingly ally themselves with Sinister was going too far.

However, Lorna's children needed to be protected. He couldn't abandon Luna and Max to Sinister. Even if his forces lent aid to Apocalypse, the man who had enslaved his only child, how could he put his grandchildren in danger?

He looked down at Lorna and saw, to his surprise, that Luna was looking at him now.

"Don't," she said, "Please...don't-"

Sinister hauled her off her feet and clapped his hand over her mouth. Luna twisted, and it was evident that his grip was hurting her.

"That's enough out of you," Sinister said.

Alex pounded at the glass again, but this time he wasn't alone. Erik was with him now, and Sinister sighed.

"You're actually going to listen to her, aren't you?" he asked.

Erik snarled, cursing the collar for cutting off his powers. At any other time he would've been able to find a way to shatter the glass with ease.

"Disappointing, but not unexpected," Sinister said, "Now, as to what to do with the little pest here-"

He didn't get to finish his sentence. The door flung open and a figure barreled into Sinister, knocking him to the ground.

* * *

**_A/N:_**_Turns out I get Wi-Fi here after all :)_


	58. Chapter 58

August 19, 1992

The halls were twisted and confusing. David had to stop frequently to ask for directions from Rahne. She seemed to get confused several times herself, looking back and forth and sniffing deeply.

It seemed like it took ages, but they finally came across a door.

"Definitely behind here," Rahne said.

David still felt a little woozy from Rogue's touch, but he knew he could handle this. He put his hands out and the door shifted on its hinges. David flexed his fingers a little more and the door clattered to the ground.

He took a step inside. Kurt looked up in surprise. Mystique was there too, but David wasn't sure why that was. Either way he ran over to his brother's cell and smiled, knocking on the glass.

"Hey," he said, "we're here to rescue you."

His brother didn't say anything. David frowned and took a closer look at him. The expression on his face was slightly broken, his whole posture slumped. David gritted his teeth and turned to Mystique.

"What the hell did you do?" he asked.

Mystique met David's glare with a level gaze.

"I left him on your father's doorstep," she said.

David swore and turned back to the glass. He saw the combination pad next to Kurt's cell. He'd have to start working on that.

"Rahne, try to get her free," David said, "I'll concentrate on Kurt."

Rahne nodded and began to examine the keypad uncertainly. David looked at it, but he could see his brother was still staring at the ground. He began trying to break the combination.

"Kurt, it doesn't matter," David said, "She didn't...you know who your mother is, right? You know who your father is. I told you a long time ago. You're my brother and you're their son. Finding out that you've got someone else's DNA...well...that's not like it's anything new, right?"

Kurt just looked away. David growled at the keypad in frustration. He put his hand over it and it came out of the wall. The door slid open. He turned his hand to Mystique's keypad, and it came undone. She stepped out, but kept her distance.

David walked into Kurt's cell and held out his hand. He knew that the scar was showing prominently.

"Blood brothers, right?" he asked.

Kurt bowed his head, his body racked with dry sobs.

"Kurt, what's wrong?" David said.

"It's my fault," Kurt said.

David frowned and put his hands on his brother's shoulders.

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

"You had to kill those men that day to protect me," Kurt said.

David frowned, uncertain at the sudden direction that the conversation had taken.

"I was protecting myself too," David said.

"Not when you cut your hand open," Kurt said, "That was because of me, because your words weren't enough when they should've been..."

"Kurt, what are you talking about?" David asked.

Kurt grabbed David's hand. He almost shoved it in his face, and David stumbled back.

"I'm talking about this!" he yelled, "I'm talking about you sharing blood with me and getting poisoned! That's my fault!"

David's eyes widened, but he still had no idea what his brother was talking about. He took a faltering step back and looked at Mystique and Rahne. It was obvious that Mystique knew what Kurt was talking about, and it pissed him off that she knew and he didn't.

He looked back at Kurt.

"David...my blood...it does stuff to people's minds," Kurt said, "That's why they wanted me. They want to assert their control over people like Mrs. Summers. David, it makes people's minds weaker...it means that you weren't...it means you weren't able to fight them off..."

David stared at his brother, feeling the shock ripple through him.

_Oh look, it was your freak brother's fault. Wonder how that feels?_

"I'm sorry David," Kurt said, "I'm so sorry."

David struggled for words. He breathed in, trying to calm himself from the torrent of emotions that swirled in him.

"Kurt, that happened a long time ago," he said, "We...we didn't know."

"That's not an excuse," Kurt said.

He looked away and let go of David's hand. David knew that Kurt was right, and part of him wanted to be angry. He could've had a life free of the voices if he just hadn't done a childish thing to make his brother feel better.

"I'm not your brother," Kurt said, "The only thing that really made me feel like I was ended up poisoning you."

David wanted to scream. This was Kurt. David looked at his brother for another moment, the syllables struggling on his tongue.

"Kurt, I've lived with you for eighteen years, almost nineteen," David said, "In all that time I never really doubted you were my brother. I mean, just think about all of the things we did together."

Kurt didn't look at him.

"I mean, just think about it," David said, "We went to each other after nightmares, we trained together, I taught you how to fly your first kite. We got it stuck in a tree right afterwards. Don't you remember any of that?"

His brother still didn't look at him. David swallowed, the frustration mounting in him.

"Kurt, I don't care that your blood hurt me," he said.

Kurt didn't move. David sighed angrily. He made sure that his fist was securely wrapped up in the uniform's protective glove before he punched at the open glass door. It cracked, but it took a few more punches and a well timed kick to shatter.

Kurt turned to him then, looking shocked. David knelt down and picked up the largest shard of glass.

"Do we need to do it again?" he asked.

His brother's eyes widened.

"David, do-" he said.

"Let me put it this way," David said.

He tore off his other glove and held the piece of glass to his hand.

"The mistakes I've made in my life are my own," David said, "They've been bad, but they've been my mistakes. They weren't your fault or anyone else's. I've lived a very long time being bitter and angry. Right now I'm sick of it, and I refuse to let the same thing happen to you."

He positioned the glass, getting ready to cut his hand.

"Having those people in my head screaming at me is worth having you know that you're my brother," David said, "And if you need me to do this again to make you believe me, then it's a small price to pay."

Kurt bit his lip, tears welling in his eyes.

"So, do I need to do this?" David asked, his voice soft, "I'm asking you Kurt."

"You're willing...to...to..." Kurt mumbled.

"Of course," David said, "You're my brother."

Kurt knocked the piece of glass out of David's hand and pulled him into a hug. David hugged him back, feeling his own apprehension sinking back down.

"You really would have done it," Kurt said, pulling away.

"I told you I would've, didn't I?" David said, "I'm trying to be a man of my word."

He patted Kurt on the shoulder.

"Now come on," he said, "We have to rescue mom and dad. Then we have to go help Max and the rest."

He shrugged.

"I can only imagine what kind of trouble they're getting into right now."

* * *

Max punched Sinister the minute he was on the ground. He looked at his sister, wanting to tell her to run, but she had bitten into Sinister's hand. Sinister screamed and Luna scrambled away.

"That's my sister," Max said, feeling pride flowing through him.

He pulled back for another punch, but Sinister threw him off. Max scrambled to his feet as Rogue and Piotr came into the room. Rogue immediately pulled Luna behind her and Max moved his feet to solidify his position.

"Isn't this precious?" Sinister said, "You're all dressed-up as your father for Halloween Maximilian."

"Shut up," Max said.

He knew it was a bad comeback, but it was all he had.

"Rogue, Piotr, help them out," Max said, pointing to the other cells.

Sinister watched them move towards the glass doors and begin working on the control panels. Rogue immediately went to Logan's, and Piotr followed her. Max moved in front of them, making sure Sinister knew who he was up against if he wanted to stop them.

"Really?" Sinister said, "I know you have your father's brashness, but I thought your mother's genes might have mellowed you out."

"It's kind of hard to mellow me out right now," Max said.

Sinister cocked his head and gestured to the cell that held Alex and Magneto. They were both yelling things, but he couldn't hear either of them. He had the feeling that Sinister had muted their cell.

"How long were you listening in?" he asked.

Max gritted his teeth. His head was still spinning from that.

"Long enough to know that you've got more members of my family in here than I thought," Max said.

"Oh, I see," Sinister smirked, "And how does it feel to know you're related to that?"

He jerked his thumb at Magneto.

"It makes me feel that I'm gonna have to talk to my parents in great detail later," Max said, "But my first thought is that you've got four of my family members in here instead of three, and you had someone kill my aunt. So, overall, I'm pissed."

Sinister paused.

"You are a peculiar one," he said.

"You're one to talk!" Max shouted.

He put his hand out. A metal table flung itself across the room. Sinister dodged it and laughed.

"Your family must not have told you much about me," he said, "That's the only excuse that I can think of: you're ill-prepared. Otherwise you're just a pathetic fool wishing that things were different and whining about how they're not."

Max kicked him, but Sinister caught his foot and twisted. Mac twirled and fell to the ground, hitting his head. He pushed himself back up.

"You're boring me Maximilian," Sinister said.

Mac flexed his fingers and sent a wave of metal instruments flying at Sinister. He could feel the knife in his uniform vibrate. It wanted to join in.

"Unoriginal."

Sinister dodged the metal objects and walked towards Max. He picked him up and slammed him into the ground. Max tasted blood and Sinister kicked him in the ribs, sliding him across the floor.

"Max!" Rogue yelled.

"Keep at the doors!" Max managed.

Sinister kicked Max again, this time in the face. Max saw stars as Sinister approached him. At the last minute he side-stepped him and grabbed Rogue's arm. He tossed her to the ground. Piotr moved to help her, but Sinister pushed him to the ground too.

"You're all children, and you're in a battle you have no hope of winning," Sinister said, "If your parents and mentors can't win against me, you certainly can't. And if you can't win against me, how could you hope to win against my master?"

Max looked at Sinister. He remembered his mother talking to him, asking if he would be willing to kill one day. His eyes flickered around the room, searching for inspiration, to know if he could make that choice.

Sinister looked at him and grabbed Luna's arm. She kicked out at him but he pulled her into the air, keeping her at an arm's distance.

"Stupid, all of you," Sinister said.

Max looked at his sister, at the way that his father, uncle, and grandfather were looking at him. He got to his feet and pulled the knife out of his uniform. He tossed it, using his powers to guide it.

Sinister moved and the knife went into the wall behind him. He looked at it and laughed.

"Is that all you have?" he asked.

He turned back in time to see Max running at him. He'd pulled off one of his gloves with the momentary distraction afforded by the knife. With his bare hand he grabbed Sinister's face.

Sinister screamed as his face began to turn into metal. Max used his gloved hand to jerk Luna away from Sinister and put her behind his back. The metal coated Sinister and Max pulled away, panting.

"No," Max said.

He looked over at Luna and pulled her into a hug, careful not to touch her skin. Piotr was getting up, blinking wildly at Max. Rogue was on her feet too, her eyes on him. She didn't look disgusted though, just surprised. Max felt surprised too.

Piotr moved to the cell holding Max's father and grandfather. He snorted and turned to metal. He punched at the glass, shattering it. Alex rushed forward, enveloping the two of them in a hug.

"As mad as I am that you did this, I'm also very proud," he said.

"Thanks Dad," Max said.

He looked past his father at his grandfather. Max didn't know what to say to him, if he should even say anything to him. In the end he settled for a nod, which Magneto returned. They could talk more later.


	59. Chapter 59

August 19, 1992

Charles could see Moira through the glass as she struggled for every breath. True to Sinister's word, she was dying much more slowly than she had the first time. He could see that it was prolonging her suffering, her lips turning black and eyes clouding over.

He reached out to her mind desperately, trying to at least numb the pain. He couldn't though. His powers were locked away. Charles hadn't been able to save her the first time this had happened. Now he wasn't even able to offer her the small comfort he had given her then.

She was pressed up against the glass of the cell. He could almost feel her warmth through the glass, but he couldn't touch her. He couldn't help her, couldn't save her, couldn't comfort her. Charles had never felt more useless.

It was his worst nightmare reliving itself nearly twenty years later. He couldn't believe that this was happening again. If Sinister was telling the truth, then his sons were also in danger. He couldn't help them either.

"Moira," he whispered.

He knew she couldn't hear him. He'd tried to get some sort of message to her at the beginning, but Apocalypse had made true to his word. He'd cut out all sound from either cell. He was watching his wife die in silence, losing her by inches.

Moira reached her hand up, pressing it to the glass. Her eyes met his, and he saw the black webbing there, saw it inching into the white of her eyes. She was scared, but her eyes were still going out to him, still calling to him. His eyes filled with tears and his own vision began to blur.

The door at the other end of the cell was knocked open. Charles looked and saw David charge in, followed closely by Kurt, Rahne, and Mystique. David ran up to him and knelt next to him.

"You okay dad?" he asked.

"David, what are you doing here?" Charles asked.

"Leading a rescue mission apparently," David said, a weak grin crossing his face, "Rahne, see if you can open the door to my mom-"

Moira pounded on the glass, shaking her head furiously. David turned and, for the first time, got a good look at her.

"What did they do?" he growled.

"They pulled the Legacy virus from her blood," Charles said, his voice cracking, "They want to infect the world with it, turn everyone into mutants and kill the rest."

He swallowed.

"Starting with your mother," he said.

"But we need to get her out of there," David said.

Moira was still shaking her head, black dribbling from her lips.

"What...why can't I hear her?" David asked.

"They turned off the comm system," Charles said.

Mystique peeled away from the group and began to punch in numbers on the control panel.

"David, we can't let her out," Charles said, each word like a dagger, "She's intensely contagious, especially among mutants. If you open that door it will spread like wildfire."

He felt his own breath choking him.

"It's what she's trying to tell you," he said.

Moira continued looking at them, still worried. Kurt knelt by her, his eyes wide and in pain. She managed a weak smile before coughing up more black material into her hands.

"We can't just leave her," David said.

Moira shook her head again. Charles began tugging on his headband.

"Get this thing off me," he said.

David waved his hand and the locks came unone. Charles tossed it to the side.

_Moira, I'm here,_ he thought.

_Charles, you need to get our sons out of here,_ she thought, _You need to stop Apocalypse. I know what you're all fighting about, and you know you can't stay here with me Charles. It's too dangerous, and I won't have our sons risking themselves like this. _

She coughed.

_I won't have you risking yourself like this. _

"The comms are on," Mystique said.

Moira coughed again, but he could hear it this time. It was a deep, hacking noise. Charles breathed in and Moira pressed her forehead against the glass.

"Warren healed her last time," David said.

"He's dead," Charles said.

"No. He's alive, but Apocalypse did something to his mind," David said, "We just need his blood, right? We can get that. He's outside right now, fighting some of our team. No problem."

David sounded almost hysterical when he spoke. Kurt swallowed.

"We'd need to leave her," he said.

"I'll stay behind," Rahne said.

"You can't. We need as many ferals as we can get," David said.

"Then I'll stay."

Charles looked at his sister. She stood, her hands clenched into fists. She jerked her thumb towards the comm system.

"That links to most of the prison systems," she said, "I may be able to hack it and get some information about what's going on with the people Apocalypse has under his control. I'll relay the information, and I can watch Moira while I do that."

David narrowed his eyes.

"I don't trust you," he said.

"For the love of..." Mystique muttered.

She directed her gaze to Charles.

"I won't hurt her," she said.

"That's not what I'm worried about," David said, "I don't trust you in general."

"David, stop," Charles said, "Now is not the time."

He looked at Mystique again, hoping beyond hope that he could trust his sister. She looked him in the eye, her voice soft when she spoke again.

"As much as I hate to say this, I owe her," Mystique said.

Charles nodded and glanced briefly at Kurt.

"We owe you," he said.

She shook her head, her expression bitter.

"Of course you'd say that," Mystique said.

She walked up to the control panel and began punching in different numbers.

"Now hurry up," she said, "I don't know about you, but I don't want to live in the age of Apocalypse."

Charles looked back at Moira.

_I'm going to numb your pain receptors,_ he thought, _It might give you a fighting chance. _

_Thank you,_ Moira thought.

He pressed his hand against the glass again.

_Call out to me if you need me,_ he thought, _Moira I...I love you. _

She smiled.

_I love you too Charles,_ she thought, _Now go save the world. _

* * *

Amanda held onto the control board as the plane rocked from side to side. Sharon swore as she wrestled with controls.

"We're losing altitude," Sharon said.

Out of the corner of her eye Amanda saw Archangel dive past the window.

"I think he's going around back," Amanda said.

"Really?" Sharon said, "Perfect."

She pressed a button and started up the engines.

"He can have a face full of fire," she said, "I don't know if his healing factor can compensate, but we're running out of-"

_Sharon? Amanda?_

Amanda winced. It sounded like someone was clanging bells inside of her head.

_David?_ Sharon thought, _Everyone alright?_

_Not really,_ David thought,_ I need you to make sure that Archangel gets to the ground and gets bound. His blood heals, and one way or another we need to get it from him._

Sharon's hand faltered over the engine accelerator.

_My mother's life depends on it,_ David thought.

_I've got you David,_ Sharon thought.

She took her hand off the engine accelerator.

"We can't risk it," she said.

She bit her lip and put the plane into a barrel roll. Amanda felt her head jolt up against the side of the plane.

"We're going to have to find another way," Sharon said.

"How many options do we have?" Amanda said.

Sharon looked at the radar. The red dot was closing in on them.

"Well, Amanda, I think I'm going to have to crash the plane," she said.

"What?" Amanda said.

Sharon looked scared, so Amanda knew that she had heard her right.

"Are you really going to crash this thing?" she asked.

"There are safety protocols," Sharon said, her voice shaky, "If I do it right, then it'll shake him off our trail. He'll pull up. He's tired, we've been running him ragged, and we'll get a chance to surprise him."

"Not if we're dead," Amanda said.

The Blackbird was jolted to the side and a slicing noise filled the air. Wind began whistling through the Blackbird. Amanda saw that there was a deep tear in the side of the plane. There was another explosion from the back.

"One of our engines are down," Sharon said, "We can keep flying without it, it was a back-up one, but not for much longer. Not with him pulling these types of moves."

Sharon shook her head.

"With the way things are going we might die right now," she said, "But I don't see many other options. We can always rebuild the Blackbird, but we can't rebuild ourselves. I need to know if you're with me on this."

Amanda shut her eyes for a moment, her heart pounding in her throat.

"How do we survive?" she asked.

"We'll have to eject. Hit the 'X' on your buckle to deploy your parachute when you start to fall," Sharon said, "We still have enough power for that. You don't get motion sick, do you?"

Amanda gave her a blank look.

"You know I'm an acrobat, right?" she asked.

"Good," Sharon said brightly, "When we get there, I'll try to bring him to the ground. You take it from there."

She twisted the controls. The plane jerked to the side and began plummeting to the ground. Amanda felt her stomach flip flop. It had never done this when she was on the trapeze. Then again, she'd been in control when that happened.

The ground kept getting closer, but Sharon kept her hands on the controls.

"When do we eject?" Amanda asked.

"One more moment," Sharon said.

Amanda could almost make out the daisies growing on the ground below them.

"Now?" she asked.

"Now," Sharon said.

She hit a button. Amanda felt her seat rocket from under her as the front two seats shot up in the air. Amanda could see the sky around her and, for a minute, she was at home in the bright sun, surrounded by the sky.

Then she began to fall, the seat falling away but leaving a backpack. She punched the 'X' on her chest buckle and felt her descent stop abruptly. It was like someone had jerked her back and forth, and she suddenly realized why Sharon had asked if she got motion sick.

Amanda landed on the ground and rolled. She could feel herself start to get tangled in her parachute, but she continued to roll to avoid it. She unbuckled herself and got to her knees, feeling a little shaken, but fine.

A few feet away from her Sharon wasn't so lucky. Amanda realized, with a jolt, that this was Sharon's first time doing this. There was a slashing noise from within the silk and Sharon emerged. Her hands were covered in white fur and had long claws on them. For the first time Amanda wondered if there was more to Sharon's mutation then she'd seen.

Sharon motioned towards the woods and Amanda followed her. They had just gotten into the woods when Archangel came. He hovered over the scene, looking around. Sharon narrowed her eyes and breathed in.

She looked nervous. Amanda wondered if this was what Clarice had meant by saying that David's team was green. Sharon had never done what she was proposing, but she was going to do it anyway. It was hard not to admire that kind of courage.

Archangel hovered a little closer to the ground. Sharon cracked her neck and white fur spread all over her body. She bent down and undid her boots as her features became more catlike. Her hands turned back into talons, and Amanda could see talons and claws on her feet too. Sharon breathed in again, displaying pointed teeth, and tossing the boots over her shoulders.

Sharon leapt out of the bushes and tackled Archangel, bringing him to the ground. He smashed into the grass, mostly out of surprise. Sharon began slashing at his face, and arms. Amanda knew that this was her cue.

She cut around the wreck and saw that Archangel had his back turned to her. He was too occupied with Sharon, and it looked like he was winning. Amanda saw an iron bar at the other side of the wreck and went for it.

Sharon cried out, but it sounded more like a hiss. Amanda could see that she hadn't given up on trying to tear Archangel apart. Amanda grabbed the iron bar. She hurried up behind Archangel, aiming for his head.

One of his wings came up and blocked her blow. The vibrations travelled painfully up her arm. She dropped the bar and rolled as he whirled around. Amanda saw a few metal feathers come off of his wings, flying towards her.

Amanda sumersaulted backwards out of their way. She saw the flaming wreck behind her and made a run for it. Amanda knew that she was fast, but she didn't know if she was fast enough to outrun someone called Archangel.

A moment later she saw him swoop over her head. His wing lashed out at her. She used it as a springboard to jump to his other side, kicking him on the way. He moved backwards and Amanda panted.

She had to keep thinking of it as an act. Amanda had to see him as a series of obstacles to get through. It was the only way that she was going to get past him. Her muscles were strong, conditioned from years of trapeze work.

His eyes narrowed at her as she jumped over him again. His fist came out and caught her in her face. She fell to the ground and he approached, the blue diamond in his head glowing brightly.

From behind him, Sharon hit him in the head with the bar that Amanda had dropped. He fell to his knees and Sharon whacked him in the head with it again. Amanda found a nearby piece of wreckage and joined in. Archangel floundered, confused, as blow after blow rained down on his head.

He fell to the floor, his eyes closed. Sharon looked at Amanda.

"Think he's out?" she asked.

Amanda hit him on the head again. Sharon raised her eyebrows.

"Best to make sure," she said.

Sharon grinned, an oddly feline expression.

"True," she said.


	60. Chapter 60

August 19, 1992

"What's happening?" Hank roared.

Calvin winced and laid down, rubbing his head. Clarice had finished teleporting the last of the students into Hank's house, and Carly was helping her sit down. Hank knew she was injured, that he should be helping her, but he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"David is leading a small group of other mutants to try to rescue the others," Calvin said, "Believe me, I didn't think it was a good idea either. Not like it stopped him."

"Your daughter wasn't among the people he was leading," Hank snapped.

Clarice forced herself to sit up.

"Hank, I think...David may know what he's doing," she said, "Apocalypse won't be expecting him. He doesn't think they have it in them."

"He's going to figure it out," Hank said.

Carly got up and put her hand on Hank's shoulder. Worry consumed his wife's eyes and he held her close, looking over her shoulder and staring at the wall. He wanted to demand that Clarice and Calvin take him there at once, but he knew that both of them would need time before they teleported again. Otherwise they might end up stranding them halfway to New York in the middle of nowhere.

The phone rang. Hank looked at it, cursing it. He didn't want to answer it, didn't want to find out what new political crisis was emerging while his daughter and the children of his friends fought for the fate of the world.

Out of instinct, he picked it up though.

"Hank McCoy," he muttered.

There was silence on the other end.

"Who is this?" Hank demanded.

"I'm...I'm sorry," a voice said, "I didn't know Sean's emergency contact would turn out to be you."

Hank furrowed his brow.

"Who is this?" Hank asked.

"My name is Phil Coulson," he said, "I've been trying to get a hold of Sean for a while now. His father knew mine...it's complicated. Anyway, I work with him, and there's one area my father always told me to watch out for. A small area in the county of Westchester in New York."

Hank shifted the phone around his head. Carly was looking up at him, her eyes wide.

"What about it?" he asked.

"My...boss for lack of a better word, knows something's going on down there," he said, "He wants to send in a team-"

"No!" Hank said.

He could hear the shock on the other end of the phone. Hank could feel it inside himself as well. He knew that the X-men could probably use all of the help they could get. However, he knew how delicate such a situation was. There were too many variables at stake. Having a second team that couldn't communicate with the first would end in disaster.

It wasn't like in the movies, where both teams found each other immediately. He'd been there himself. Neither would know who the enemy was, and it could end up in a full-blown shootout. It was the same reason why Sean hadn't wanted another team to go in when Sinister had been captured.

"I can't stall him forever," Coulson said.

He put a hand to his forehead and thought. Carly was giving him a determined look: she was close enough to hear the conversation. Her hands fisted into the fur of his arms and he took strength from that.

There was much to worry about, much that he needed strength to combat. His daughter was fighting a war that he hadn't prepared her for. His best friends and their families were at risk. Hank needed to help them.

"Let me talk to him," Hank said.

"What?" Coulson said.

"Your boss. I said, let me talk to him," Hank said, his teeth gritted.

There was a long pause.

"Do you know who you'd be talking to? Do you have any idea-?"

"I'm not a fool Agent Coulson," Hank said, "I have been in a very precarious position as the only mutant senator for the past few years. As such I have taken very careful note of everyone who has ever given me aid. In short, I know exactly who the people who investigated my assassination attempt are."

There was another pause.

"I'm passing him over," Coulson said.

"Thank you," Hank said.

He closed his eyes, his heart pounding. He used his spare hand to grip Carly's, all the while trying to marshal his thoughts.

"Senator McCoy."

"Director Fury," Hank said.

"Listen, I don't know what's going on with you right now, or why the hell Coulson thinks I'd want to talk to you. But-"

"No, I think you need to listen to me," Hank said, his voice low but sharp, "Maybe end-of-the-world situations are very ordinary where you come from, but to me they're not. The fact of the matter is, if you send a team down there right now, then we're going to have a very difficult situation on our hands. I know you might be able to get there in time to do some good, but it's more likely that you'll do some harm."

"You sound like you can positively confirm that the team already there can handle it," Fury snapped.

Hank took another deep breath.

"Whether I am positive or not, I have a great deal of faith in them," Hank said, "They know the enemy intimately Director Fury. While some of them may be younger, we've all been fighting our own personal war. A war that SHIELD has, for the most part, left untouched. You have trusted us to deal with it up to this point. Trust us a little longer."

There was a long pause. Hank could hear Fury simmering on the other end.

"You act like we've made this decision consciously," Fury said.

"You did make the decision," Hank said, "You made the decision every time you didn't intervene, every time an independent team had to save a child or a teen from a city-wide manhunt, every time criminals whose only crime was their powers going out of control were locked away. You let us be the ones to deal with it. This is not your responsibility any more Fury, it's ours. Until the world decides to help shoulder this burden, then it is still ours."

There was another pause.

"I wish to God you know what you're doing," Fury said.

"So do I Director," Hank said, "So do I."

* * *

Rogue looked around the cell block, feeling strange as the different X-men stepped into the hall. She knew her dismay showed on her face.

"What's wrong?" Max said.

She bit her lip.

"Remy ain't here," she said.

Max nodded, understanding. She didn't think that he truly understood though. If she'd been stronger at the camp then she could have helped him. Instead he'd been tossed around like a rag doll and taken away by force.

"I'm sure he's in another cell," Max said, "He's probably in the same room as the Professor or Kurt. David'll find him."

"Yeah," Rogue muttered.

Logan came out from one of the cells. Rogue hurried over and hugged him, careful not to touch any of his actual skin. After everything that had happened that night, she needed some comfort. Logan gave her a one-armed hug back.

"Interestin look," Logan said.

She pulled away and shrugged.

"Either tha or go in in my pajamas," she said.

"Good call," Logan said, "Ya don't belong here kid."

She gave him a helpless shrug.

"Ah wasn't gonna just leave when I coulda helped," she said.

"Not a bad point, but ya ain't a soldier kid," Logan said.

"Neither are any of us," Piotr said, "But we got you out."

Logan glared at Piotr. Max cleared his throat, one of his hands still on Luna's shoulders.

"We kind of had to draft some people in on this one," he said, "Not the best idea, sure, but we didn't have many options."

Scott sighed heavily and looked at his nephew. Rogue wondered what he was thinking, especially after what had happened between Max and Sinister. They didn't have to find out though. Jean raised one of her hands, her other hand by her temples.

"David says that they found the Professor and Moira," she said.

Scott grinned. Rogue let out a sigh of relief as Jean furrowed her brow.

"Moira's been infected with the Legacy virus," Jean said.

"What?" Scott asked.

Rogue had no idea what the Legacy virus was, but she could see the fear and shame on Scott's face. The older X-men, and the older members of the Brotherhood, were all exchanging worried looks.

"He says...he says that Apocalypse is planning on infecting the world with it," Jean said, her brow still furrowed, "It'll kill off most people, but the ones that survive are supposed to become mutants...it sounds complicated..."

"We'll have to stop him," Scott said.

"Back at the camp this guy went through us like a hot knife through butter," Max said, "No offense, but I don't think that you guys fared too well against him either. Do we have any sort of plan for this?"

"Not at the moment," Jean said.

"Okay," Max said.

He shrugged, forcing a smile on his face.

"The lower the odds, the more glory," he said.

"Max, you're not coming with us," Alex said, "I want you to take yourself and Luna and get out of here."

Max threw his hands into the air.

"Okay, I get that you're my dad and all, but I'm perfectly capable-" he said.

"I'm not an idiot Max, I saw what you just did to Sinister," Alex said, "But that doesn't change the fact that your sister is ten. She needs to get out of here, and you can protect her."

Rogue looked down. Luna was looking up at her father and brother with big eyes. Max's eyes widened with understanding before he slumped.

"I get that but, dad, there's nowhere to take her," he said, "The camp isn't safe, it isn't safe here, we can't get her to Uncle Hank's house without a teleporter, and I think that we need Kurt here."

Alex breathed in, his face troubled. Luna reached out and grasped her father's hand.

"It's okay," she whispered, "I'm not scared anymore."

Alex held Luna close. Rogue had to feel for the man. He'd come so close to losing both of his children, and his wife was still under Apocalypse's control. Rogue thought of Remy, the only person she cared about that she hadn't been able to see set free. It made her ache.

"Okay," Alex said, "but stay close."

He turned his head and looked over at Magneto. Some silent communication passed between them. Rogue still couldn't believe that the man who had kidnapped and nearly killed her was Max's grandfather. It explained why she had shivered when she'd first met Max. His resemblance to his grandfather obvious now that she was looking. When it came to personalities they couldn't be more different though.

"Let's get moving," Scott said, "Marvel, see if you can connect with David."

She nodded. Max drew level with his father as they turned outside the corridor.

"Sharon and Amanda are in the Blackbird right now, and Siryn and Deadpool are on the ground," Max said.

"What's she doing out there?" Sean asked.

"They're drawing fire," Max said, "I haven't heard from them since we got down here though."

"Right," Sean muttered.

Jean took her hand away from her head.

"We should meet them in the hall if we continue going through it," she said, "Mystique's trying to hack into the records, and they managed to get the Professor out of there. They need some of Archangel's blood if they want Moira to live-"

"Sure," Ororo said, her voice bitter, "we'll just ask him for it."

"Storm," Scott said.

She looked at him, her eyes still bitter. Rogue had no idea what was going on.

"Do you have any plan, any plan at all for bringing them back to us?" Ororo said.

"No, not yet," Scott said, "But we have several telepaths. That should help-"

An explosion cut him off. Scott was thrown backwards, knocking several others down. There was a faint light and the wall next to them blew up. Logan grabbed Rogue and pulled her to the ground, shielding her from the blast.

Rogue smelt burning flesh and looked up, her heart pounding. Logan was hurt, but he was healing. He got to his feet and helped her up. He sniffed the air and looked towards the end of the hallway at a figure standing there.

The figure stepped forward. Rogue put her hands in front of her mouth.

"Remy," she said.

Remy stared blankly at her, his skin gray and black. Armor had been strapped in place around him, obscured beneath a thick black coat. He extended his palm, several glowing cards there. A beam of red light shot them out of his hand. Scott stepped in front of them all, his hand on his goggles.

"Remy, don't-" he started.

Remy lashed out with his foot. Scott barely managed to dodge it as Remy pulled out more cards from his vest. He charged them and sent them flying across the room, blowing up several of the walls.

Rogue was blown back by the impact. She saw, from the other hall, David approaching with Kurt, Rahne, and the Professor in tow. David had one of his father's arms around his shoulders, the other around Kurt's. His face fell when he saw the scene.

Remy turned to him, the cards in his hands lighting up. David flung out his hand and sent him to the end of the hallway. David was breathing hard and Kurt gave him a desperate look. Remy had been their friend for years. Rogue remembered Remy telling her that they had saved his life.

"Marvel!" David yelled.

Jean got to her feet. David pounded his head. Rogue could see the Professor narrow his eyes in concentration. All three looked over at Remy and Rogue felt hope swell in her heart. They could help him. They were all telepaths. They could help him and Max's mother and the man with the wings.

Remy writhed on the ground before lying still. Rogue ventured closer, but then he moved. She took a step back as Remy rose to his feet, magenta light filling his hands. Rogue felt tears in her eyes and despair in her heart. It hadn't worked.


	61. Chapter 61

August 19, 1992

"There's some sort of block there," Jean said, "I can't get through it!"

"Me neither," David said.

He looked down at his father. His silence was agreement enough. David could feel the desperation well up in him. If they couldn't make it through to Remy, then they wouldn't be able to make it through to Lorna or Warren.

"Screw this," Logan said.

His claws came out of his hands. David saw the horror on Rogue's face, could feel it building up in him. Alex was looking at Logan, his eyes flickering between Remy and the claws. Alex knew what would happen if they let Logan do things his way, what it would mean for all of them. David knew it too.

He wanted to scream. It couldn't be like this. This couldn't be their only choice. There were other people they had to save. He opened his mouth to say something, but Rogue grabbed Logan's arm.

"Not like this," she pleaded.

Logan sighed. Remy was getting back up, his eyes still dead and vacant.

"You're not usin your head," he said, "None o you are."

"We can't dismiss the situation so easily Logan," Charles said, "We can't let this be our final word on the matter. Too much is at stake."

Logan looked back at Remy.

"You all keep goin," he said, "I'll take care of this."

"You're not listening!" David said.

"Not gonna kill im kid," he said, "But he can't kill me either. I can slow him down will you all go after Apocalypse."

He gestured to David with his claws.

"The moment you all figure out this is the only way though, tell me," he growled.

Remy pulled out some more cards. Logan charged through the group and tackled him. David sighed, knowing he was running out of options.

"We need to get going," he said, "Siryn, Deadpool, Sharon, and Amanda are still up there."

"Amanda's up there?" Kurt asked, sounding hysterical.

"You try to hold her back when she gets determined," David said, "Besides, you have to admit that she has a useful skill set."

"While the name isn't completely foreign to me, I still don't know who that is," his father said.

David shared a look with Kurt.

"We'll explain later," he said, "Right now we need to get out of here. We need to take down Apocalypse as fast as possible."

He began to walk towards the entrance, hating himself for not having a better solution to Remy's plight. Hopefully Logan would stay true to his promise, and they would be able to figure something out.

Max touched Rogue's arm and gestured towards the stairs.

"We have to get out of here," he said.

"Ah'm stayin," Rogue said.

Max bit his lip.

"I know-" he said.

"One way or another, ah need to be here," Rogue said, her voice quiet.

Max patted her shoulder. David knew that Max was fifteen, that Rogue was only seventeen. They seemed older in that moment though, and as though they had known each other for much longer than a few weeks. X-men had to grow up fast.

He walked away and joined his father. Alex picked up Luna and they hurried up the stairs. David knew that they needed to help the rest. He heard the sounds of battle from behind him. David could only hope that Rogue would keep Logan to his word.

* * *

"Why are you still here?" Moira murmured.

Mystique looked at her before turning back to the control panel. Moira couldn't help but see the same condescension that Mystique had always held for her. Moira remembered seeing Mystique for the first time as she immediately dismissed Moira as another one of her brother's conquests.

"As I said, I don't like it, but I owe you," Mystique said.

Moira pushed herself against the glass. Talking hurt, but there were some things that needed to be said. If she was going to die, then she certainly wasn't going to die before she said this.

"To be honest," Moira said, "I never...we never got on...but...you left Kurt with us..."

"You were the only ones I knew who had anything that looked like a stable home life," Mystique said, not turning around, "You had a son, so Kurt would have a friend. I thought that he'd be raised weak, yes, but he'd grow up. At least he's not weak."

Moira sighed. She could feel the black still trickling from her lips, and she didn't bother to wipe it away. Her hands felt too tired.

"For a long time...I wondered...how," Moira said, "how you could've left him."

"You, of all people, don't get to judge me," Mystique hissed, "What would you have done if you found yourself in the middle of a war, pregnant, the child's father dead because of someone else's failure? What would you have done?"

Moira sighed again. She didn't really want to have this conversation. She wanted to die with her husband in her mind, surrounded by her sons, not bickering over old wounds. However, it wasn't as though the first way was an option. Moira needed to think ahead, and there was only one way she could do that.

"The child would be...all I would've had left," Moira said, "All I'd have left of his father-"

"And that's why I couldn't do it," Mystique snapped, "Kurt's a mirror image of his father. To see him every day and be reminded of what I'd lost-"

"What you'd gained, the love you'd had," Moira said.

Mystique fell silent, her fingers ferociously pounding the keypad.

"He's a good boy," Moira said, "A little...romantic...but strong...thoughtful...kind..."

"A son I can be proud of," Mystique said, "And all it took was other people to raise him for me."

She paused at the keypad.

"I'm not you Moira," Mystique said, "I would've hated him for resembling his father, and I would've ruined him."

"Maybe not," Moira whispered.

It pained her, but it was something that she had to say. Although Moira couldn't imagine a world where Kurt wasn't her son, where she hadn't loved him and raised him alongside David, there had always been that possibility. She'd spent so much time trying to shelter him from his real heritage, to keep him with her and Charles, and to keep him away from the Brotherhood.

As painful as it was, it was time to consider what it would be like if she hadn't.

"He might've been the making of you," Moira said.

"Or I could've been the destruction of him," Mystique said, punching in more keys, "I couldn't take that risk. Not with Azazel's son."

Moira coughed up some more black fluid. She wanted to move, but she was too weak now. She looked at the woman she had never gotten along with, had hated for leaving Charles, had looked down on for abandoning her son.

It was hard to say what she was going to admit next.

"Maybe you...made the right choice," Moira whispered, "You...really loved him, didn't you?"

"Azazel or Kurt?" Mystique asked.

"Both," Moira said.

Mystique stopped punching in numbers. She looked back at Moira, and Moira thought she saw some tears in her eyes.

"He'll talk to you," Moira said, "He's...that kind of boy."

"I'm not his mother now," Mystique said, "You are."

Moira tried to shrug, but she couldn't.

"Maybe...but...you can still...talk..." she said.

Mystique bit her lip and turned back to the keypad.

"Save your strength," she said, "Kurt's already lost one mother. I'm not having him lose another."

* * *

"He's stirring," Sharon said.

Amanda let go of his arms. She took the crowbar that she had tied to her back and hit Archangel over the head. Sharon cocked her head just to make sure. The air was filled with explosions and gunfire, but she could still hear that his heartbeat had slowed.

"Okay, it's good," she said.

"He's heavy," Amanda said.

"He has metal wings," Sharon said.

"Right, I forgot," Amanda said, her voice sarcastic.

They continued to drag him towards the main battlefield. Sharon saw Terry and Deadpool shooting down a few lines of soldiers. Deadpool pulled a grenade out of his pocket and tossed it into the crowd. There was an explosion and a shower of dirt.

"Certainly picked the right people to make a distraction David," Sharon muttered.

"How did those two meet anyway?" Amanda asked.

"Don't ask," Sharon said.

"Complicated?" Amanda asked.

"No. I don't really know," she said.

From the back of the Institute she saw a small group coming out. Sharon shielded her eyes, trying to see who it was. There was a flash of black smoke and, suddenly, Kurt was next to her.

"Kurt!" Amanda said.

She dropped Archangel and ran into his arms. He held her tightly.

"You shouldn't have come," Kurt said, "You shouldn't have-"

She kissed him and pulled away.

"I'm glad to see you're alright too," Amanda said.

She gestured to Archangel.

"But we need his blood now, right?" Amanda asked.

Kurt smiled at her and held her hand. He knelt by Archangel.

"Do we have a vial or anything?" he asked.

Deadpool jumped over and tossed a flask to Kurt. Kurt caught it and looked at Deadpool.

"I drink a lot!" he said, "Haven't used that one in a while though. Don't like the color."

Kurt stared at him. Deadpool casually balanced his gun on his shoulder and shot a soldier behind him.

"Well, don't drink too much, you're pretty underage," Deadpool said.

He turned around and began running back into the fray. Sharon shook her head.

"What does Terry see in him?" she asked.

"Something I guess," Amanda said.

Kurt knelt next to Archangel. He picked up his arm, looking for veins.

"I feel kind of bad for doing this," Sharon said, "He doesn't really know-"

"I feel bad too," Kurt said, his words low and soft, "But my mother's life depends on this."

He picked up his tail and slashed downwards through some of Archangel's veins. Kurt put the bottle underneath his arm as the blood began to trickle down into the bottle.

Sharon sighed and rubbed her temples. She looked over at Terry and Deadpool. They were still fighting the soldiers, but the rest of the X-men had jumped in as well. They would be able to polish them off easily.

Her eyes fixed on Terry.

"Kurt, is there a time limit on the wounds that Warren's blood can heal?" she asked.

Kurt looked up, surprised.

"I've never...it's not like we've experimented with this sort of thing before," he said.

"Then it's worth a try," Sharon said, "We've got to get Terry over here."

Kurt finished capping the bottle of blood.

"You think like my brother," he said.

"It's been brought to my attention," Sharon said.

"I've got to go make sure my mother's fine," Kurt said, "Tell my brother that's where I've gone."

He touched Amanda's hand.

"I'll be back, okay?" he said.

"Right," Amanda said.

Archangel began to move again. Amanda hit him over the head with the metal pipe.

"I'll just make sure that he's still out," she said.

Kurt grinned at her and disappeared. Amanda rubbed her head.

"The Xavier boys are something, aren't they?" she asked.

"Pretty much," Sharon said, "I'll have to try to get Terry's attention. As soon as there's a lull-"

The door to the Institute flew open. A man with gray skin and blue tattoos walked out, his eyes glowing. Lorna stood behind him, her eyes reflecting that same deadness that had showed in Archangel's eyes. Sharon could only suppose that this was Apocalypse.

"I don't think that lull's going to be anytime soon," Amanda said.


	62. Chapter 62

August 19, 1992

Alex stared at his wife. Her eyes were blank, her features unaffected by the sight before her. He knew, in any other time in her life, she'd have been horrified at the damage, the injuries, the fact that her son was in an X-man uniform.

Now she just waited, impervious to the fact that her husband, children, father and friends were mere steps away from her. That wasn't how it was supposed to be. That wasn't how it had ever been.

Apocalypse waved his hand and Lorna stepped forward. Immediately the metal in the fallen soldiers' weapons flew off and hovered in the air. She cocked her head at them before flexing her fingers. The metal hurtled towards them.

Magneto stepped out, his hand outstretched. The metal stopped and the rest of them scrambled out of the way. Alex grabbed Max's arm who, along with Luna, had their eyes fixed on their mother.

"Max," Alex said, "However this shakes out, you and your sister are going to be safe."

"Dad-" Max began.

"No," Alex said.

He threw all of his weight behind the word, all of the authority he had accumulated as a leader of men, a father, and a brother. He'd never had to use that tone before, and certainly not to his son.

Max faltered and Alex gripped him by your shoulders.

"Whatever happens, take care of yourself and your sister," Alex said.

He looked over at Magneto. Lorna's fingertips were still fully stretched, her eyes glowing green. Magneto didn't seem to be having too much trouble, but Alex knew that he couldn't keep it up forever.

Hate for Apocalypse swelled up inside him. He was attacking his life. Oh, there were other things at stake, but at the heart of the matter it was all very personal. Remy was barely more than a child, one who was continuing the legacy that Alex had created alongside his friends. Warren had been one of his students. He'd taught him to fly the Blackbird and shouted at him to move faster during simulations.

Lorna was the love of his life though, and the mother of his children. He'd yearned for her when she was still Magneto's heir. He'd held her through her nightmares and she had taught him of the better things in life. Lorna had showed him what true strength and courage were. The last thing he wanted to do was harm her.

If she were in possession of her faculties though, if she knew what she was doing, then she would want him to stop her. Alex knew that like he knew himself. He had to do right by her, and he had to do right by the world as well.

He ran towards her, his hands glowing red. Lorna's head turned towards him and, for a moment, he thought he saw a flicker of understanding in her eyes. She knew what he had to do. The crystal on her forehead glowed and the light dimmed in her eyes. It had only lasted for a moment, but it was enough to give him strength.

"God forgive me," he muttered.

Alex gathered up the light in his hands and sent a blast towards his wife.

* * *

Rogue watched as Logan was sent flying through the room. She went to his side, but he pushed her beside him. A card landed on his chest a second later, which blew him back even further. Blood splashed onto Rogue's face and she fell back.

Logan was healing though, and he got onto his knees. He growled and slid his eyes over to Rogue.

"I can't keep doing this," he said.

"What other option is there?" Rogue asked.

Logan put his hand on her shoulder.

"Kid, you know what it is," he said.

"Logan, you can't!" Rogue said.

"I know that you care about him," Logan said, "But-"

Another card blew up the wall behind them. Logan grabbed her and pulled her out of the explosion's path. Rogue could see that he looked tired, and Rogue could feel her throat swell. It wasn't his way to tread gently. He was doing this for her, and it was causing him a lot of pain.

She looked back at Remy, her fingers digging into the floor. He didn't look like Remy anymore. His skin was still pure black, and she could see the gray veins in his face. He picked two of his cards out of his jacket and they began to glow.

Rogue wanted to cry. She hadn't known Remy for very long. She didn't know much about him, or where he had come from. They had only met because he'd punched someone down the hallway that she'd been studying by.

_The boy rolled his eyes and shook his head. He stopped shaking his head abruptly. Rogue felt his eyes one her, saw a strange kind of curiosity in them._

_"An who might ya be?" he asked._

She bit back a cry. Rogue had wanted to know him though. He'd been interesting, and funny, and adventure. Bobby had been kind and safe, and she'd known that he'd cared about her, but despite everything she'd been through, she hadn't wanted safe. She had wanted to live again.

Rogue had wanted something to happen with Remy, to figure out what was going to happen next in her life, a life that had taken so many strange turns. Now it seemed like she was never going to get that opportunity.

* * *

Lorna was knocked back onto the front lawn. She got up, the front of her armor slightly melted. One of the soldiers guns flew out and hit him in the head. Alex fell to his knees, sinking to the grass.

One of her legs kicked out, sending him down. She'd always had a powerful kick.

_"You feel like living?"_

Alex smiled grimly to himself and got up. They had been his first real words to her, the beginning of a different, unfamiliar journey for them. He caught her next punch and rammed his head into her skull. It hurt them both, but it disoriented her. She moved back, giving him just enough time to signal the rest.

"What are you waiting for?" he yelled, pointing at Apocalypse, "Get that sonuvabitch!"

He didn't have time to see if they replied. Lorna was aiming for his throat, and he could see that her eyes were still glowing green. He managed to roll just as another wave of metallic objects went towards him.

There was another wave, but they stopped in mid-air. Alex saw Magneto with his arm outstretched, one of his eyes on their battle. Alex nodded slightly to him. He'd hated him for so long, but it appeared that Lorna had been right about one thing: he did care about her.

He looked back at Lorna, dancing around her kicks and punches, each one powerful. He longed to see some recognition in there, to see some scrap of his wife.

_Her eyes had widened, her lips still open as though she would stop him. Perhaps she believed the lie that he did and was trying to protect herself. It wouldn't help though, so he couldn't afford to let her speak. It was time to set them both free._

_"There has been times when you when I've felt so miserable, like there was no reason in getting up, in doing anything," he said, "But there have also been times that I've felt happier than I ever had in my life. And just being around you, just listening to you laugh...it's...I've never felt that before."_

She hit him in the jaw, and he felt it almost snap. He saw some alarm in her eyes before the crystal on her forehead glowed again. An idea started to form inside Alex's head, one that he didn't like, but he didn't know how many options he had left.

He dodged the next blow. Lorna would never forgive him if he did what he was planning. He'd meant what he'd said to Magneto though: his life wasn't his own. Max and Luna were still behind him, watching. It would hurt Lorna to know that she hurt him, even if someone had been dominating her mind. It would kill her to know she had done something to her children.

* * *

Rogue saw Logan's bones break for the hundredth time, and she knew she couldn't let this go on. Logan was getting tired, and he wouldn't be able to keep things up forever. If Remy managed to get past him, to get upstairs, then she knew that the fight would only get worse. Not everyone healed as quickly as Logan.

She stepped forward, moving to the side. Remy saw her and Rogue wanted to cry again. Over the past few nights it seemed as though the two of them had become so close, as though things could have gone somewhere. It felt as though her opportunities had been wasted. How could she have known how little time they'd had?

He threw a card towards her, and Rogue moved out of its way. She got as close to him as she dared.

_"What are ya getting at?" Rogue said, her voice sharp._

_Remy sighed again and pulled a card out of his pocket. He charged it with pink light and held it in front of his face. Rogue moved back a bit and Remy threaded the card through his fingers._

_"What Remy's tryin ta say is dat we're not all tickin time bombs chere," he said._

_He let the charge die from the card._

_"Some of us are jus tryin ta make our way no matter how weird we be," Remy said, "An Remy's been around de Institute long enough ta recognize dos people when he sees dem."_

"I think you could've understood me," Rogue whispered.

He threw another card at her, but there was some recognition in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said.

She put her hands on his shoulders as he drew another card. Rogue leaned forward and kissed him. She could feel his lips beneath hers, cold and lifeless. There was a spark of familiarity there though, like something sweet. It only lasted seconds, but it felt like home.

Then she felt his veins pulse under her skin, felt the power drain out of him. She held onto him, knowing she had to. Seconds passed and he fell to the floor. Rogue's breath came in choking sobs as she sank to the ground.

Logan's arms wrapped around her, and she cried openly.

* * *

He saw Lorna stretch her arm out. A knife flew into her hand and he forced himself to quiet his breathing. To his surprise, he found that he was scared. He hadn't felt scared for his own life in a long time, mostly because he'd never thought about it.

However, he couldn't force the image of her anguish at hurting him out of his mind. This was how it was going to be, how it had to be.

_"I just don't want to be alone tonight," Lorna said._

_There was a pause, and then Alex held her tighter._

_"You won't have to be alone tonight," he said, "You won't have to be alone ever again."_

_Lorna put her hand over the hand on her waist. Alex closed his eyes, feeling her closeness. He couldn't believe it was happening. _

_"I love you Alex," she said._

_"I love you too Lorna," he said._

She lashed out with the knife and Alex stood still. He felt the knife dig into his ribs, heard Max and Luna scream. He saw Lorna's expression change, her eyes lose their blankness. Tears began to well up there, flowing down her cheeks.

They sank to the ground together. The green crystal was glowing brightly, but Lorna was still crying.

"I'll never let you be alone," Alex said.


	63. Chapter 63

August 19, 1992

Lorna stared at her husband. She could feel his blood pouring out over her hands, over the knife she was holding in his side. One of his hands was on the side of her face, almost as though he was caressing her.

He began to sink to the ground, and Lorna knelt next to him. She wanted to do something, to help him, but the knife was still in her hand. She was doing this. She was killing him.

A burning began in her forehead. It seemed to heat the tears that she was crying, making them burn down her face.

"I love you," Alex whispered.

In the back she heard Max and Luna screaming. Her eyes managed to find them, to see the horror and the despair on their faces. She had just mortally wounded their father in front of them. It was like the nightmare was never-ending.

Alex's hand started to slip from the side of her face. The burning in her forehead was becoming more intense and she could feel her mind beginning to slip away. She couldn't stop it.

There were footsteps. Feeling a glaze come over her eyes, she saw her father approaching.

"Fight it," he hissed, "This...this thing just made you kill your husband!"

Lorna looked down at Alex. He wasn't dead yet, but it was clear that he was dying. She struggled to reach out and touch his face, her heart stuttering painfully in her chest. She couldn't lose him.

"I didn't raise you to be this weak!" her father shouted.

Lorna blinked. Her hand fisted into the cloth of Alex's uniform. She gritted her teeth, feeling the fury flooding through her. She wasn't going to give into the numbness. Apocalypse had made her kill her husband. What would he make her do next? Kill her children?

She threw her head back and screamed. One of her hands scrabbled blindly at her forehead. She collapsed to the ground, still scrabbling at her forehead. Her nails cut into her skin, and she could feel blood mingling with her tears.

The burning was still in her forehead, but there were other things to concentrate on. Alex was bleeding out next to her. She had done that. Apocalypse had made her do that. He was going to pay for that.

"Mom!" Luna yelled.

Lorna could feel the dirt in her eyes and ears, but she wasn't going to let him do this anymore. She still had family to protect. Her father knelt next to her, putting his hand on her shoulder.

"Lorna, you can do this," he said, "He did this for you. He could've dodged it, but he did this for you, so you could break out of this."

She saw her father's hand bury itself in the dirt.

"He loves you," he said, "Loves you enough to die for you."

Lorna wanted to cry.

_"I know you love him," Moira said, "He's never...Alex is pretty closed off. He's never been like this about someone before. So, remember that he loves you just as much as you love him. Maybe more. And he is willing to die for you."_

_"I don't want him to die for me!" Lorna said._

_Moira smiled softly at her._

_"I never said you did," she said, "I just want you to remember that Alex doesn't do anything by halves. He loves you. I just want you to remember that. And, well, hold him back sometimes. You know how he can get."_

It hurt too much. She thrashed, still slashing blindly at the crystal in her forehead.

"Oh God," she gasped.

There was a roar from the other side of the lawn. It was Apocalypse, but she ignored it. Her fingers were finally finding some leverage on the diamond and began to pull. It felt like pulling a dagger out of her forehead.

Lorna ripped it off. She tossed it as far away from her as she could and collapsed onto the ground. She could still feel the tears on her face as her father gently put a hand on her shoulder.

"It's alright," he said softly.

She shook her head as she forced herself to her knees. Luna was hurrying towards her, and she felt her daughter's arms wrap around her neck. Max collapsed beside her and Lorna coughed, trying to get back her breath.

"Your color mom," Luna said.

Lorna swallowed and looked at her husband.

"Alex," she whispered.

Alex turned his head to her, his hand over his side, trying to keep the blood in. She moved over to him, her children with her, and cradled his head.

"Hey," he said, "Not like...I haven't been...stabbed before..."

"But not by me," Lorna said.

She touched his face. Lorna had been taught all of the best places to stab someone, what would make them bleed the most. She had gone for a major artery when she fought him, and she knew that he was in pain.

"It's not over," Alex said.

Lorna felt the rage behind her eyes as she looked up at Apocalypse. He was fighting the rest of the X-men. She saw him hit David into the ground, heard his arm snap. Charles was yelling, and the rest were moving in. Logan and Rogue came up from the Institute, Rogue's eyes glowing magenta.

She was in an island of pain, surrounded by battle. Lorna looked back at her children. Max was holding Luna now, and they were both crying. Max was keeping it in better than his little sister, but they were losing their father.

"Lorna...kick his ass," Alex said.

Her eyes went back to Apocalypse.

"You...made me..." she seethed.

She forced herself to her feet and walked away from her children. A green film dropped over her eyes. Apocalypse looked at her, perhaps surprised, and she clenched her hands into her fists. Words were forming on her tongue, but she couldn't find a way to articulate them.

Lorna screamed wordlessly. She sent as much metal as he could at him. He put his hand out, stopping it. Lorna glared at him, feeling the rage make her knees and hands shake. She needed to overcome him.

Her father walked next to her and stretched out his arm. She could feel him adding his strength to hers, just like they had when she was a child, still being groomed to take over his position in the Brotherhood.

There were more footsteps. Max stood beside her, one arm outstretched and his face full of a familiar fire. Luna was looking at them, kneeling beside her father, sobbing. Max's eyes met Lorna's, and he nodded at her.

Lorna felt something give. The objects went through and knocked Apocalypse to the ground. Lorna stepped up, ripping the armor Apocalypse had given her off her arms. He was going to pay for this.

* * *

"Mom!" Kurt shouted.

His mother smiled weakly from behind the glass. Kurt looked over at Mystique and waved the bottle.

"I've got it," he said.

Mystique punched a button on the control panel and the door slid open. Moira slumped to the floor, and Kurt knelt by her. He opened up the bottle and a trickle of the blood found its way into her lips. She swallowed, and Kurt waited.

"You...might've been infected," Moira said, "Take some."

"Not until I figure out if you've had enough," Kurt said.

"Kurt, don't be dumb," Mystique said, "Just listen to your mother and take some of the blood."

Kurt looked at her. She sounded frank, almost like a woman concerned for her friend's son. However, they both knew that she was his biological mother. Kurt wanted to say something to her, but he couldn't find it in him to do so. Not now.

The black veins were disappearing from Moira's eyes. Emboldened, Kurt took a sip of blood. It was cold, clotted, and gross. It also tasted a little bit alcoholic. He'd have to talk to Deadpool about that.

He held out the bottle to Mystique.

"You've been exposed too," he said.

Mystique smiled and took the bottle. She drank some and made a face.

"This is gross, but it tastes a little like vodka," Mystique said, "Where did you get this?"

"Around," Kurt said.

He got to his feet and looked at his mother. Despite how terrible she looked, her eyes and skin looked normal. Kurt gave her his hand and helped her up. She shook a little, but she managed to stay up by leaning on his shoulder.

"Did you figure anything out...from the control pad?" Moira asked.

"Not much," Mystique said, "It looks like the 'horsemen' were given the diamonds as chips to keep them under Apocalypse's control, and he picked them because they impressed him in battle."

She shook her head.

"As for Apocalypse, he's immortal," Mystique said, "We're not going to be able to beat him by usual methods."

"Then we're just going to have to find some unusual ones," Kurt said.

* * *

It shouldn't be this way. Apocalypse had all of the X-men and Brotherhood targeting him. David knew that meant that he should be a bloody smear on the ground, but he was holding his own.

He wasn't just holding his own. He was also winning. David's broken, useless arm was testament enough to that. No one was really getting close to him, and those whose powers seemed to be hurting him couldn't get close.

Lorna, Max and Magneto were controlling as much metal as they could find. Objects continued to fly out of the Institute, hitting Apocalypse again and again. He didn't seem too worried about it though, and that worried David.

At least Lorna wasn't under his control any more. He could see where Rogue and Logan had joined them. Remy hadn't come up with them and that wasn't good. He couldn't help himself but worry that his friend was gone, another victim of Apocalypse's schemes.

_Rogue_, David thought, _I know this is difficult...but Remy-_

_He's barely alive,_ Rogue thought, _He might be dead soon, but I didn't...I didn't hold on long enough to kill him._

David couldn't bring himself to ask specifics. Still, he was relieved.

_We bound him, but..._Rogue thought.

_We have a way to help him_, David thought, _It's going to be okay._

Rogue's eyes widened just as Apocalypse tossed a metal chair their way. Logan pushed her out of the way. Rogue grabbed for the chair and charged it with magenta light. She tossed it at Apocalypse, and the resulting explosion forced him back.

Scott sent off a blast from his eyebeams, getting closer. Apocalypse tossed him aside and Scott hit the ground. He raised his fist above him, and David knew that Apocalypse could easily smash his ribs or head.

Kurt appeared next to Scott and teleported him away. Apocalypse hit the ground and growled in his frustration. Kurt teleported Scott to the other side of the crowd before teleporting away again. He reappeared with Mystique and their mother in tow.

David was relieved to see that his mother was alright, and he could see the glow in his father's eyes. They weren't going to win the way they were fighting though. They weren't going to be able to fight him with their usual methods.

They had to wear him down, had to do something to make him expend a sizable chunk of energy. A thought occured to him, and he swallowed. He felt fear well up in him, but he had to be brave. Alex had already been brave that night.

_Dad, get Emma and Jean ready,_ David thought, _I'm going to try something. _

_What?_ his father asked.

_Just be ready_, David thought.

David put his hands to his temples. The world shifted. The Institute and the lawn seemed to melt away. It was difficult though, just like it had been at the camp. Apocalypse's mind had a great deal of gates, and it was well guarded.

At the camp David hadn't known that Apocalypse had infected his mother, bled his brother, and made the people he respected kill each other. It gave him the strength to push on and break through the first barriers. It was like he was standing in a void, one with no edges. He'd never gotten this far before.

A second later the ground began to rumble beneath their feet. He saw Apocalypse in the corner, his expression furious.

"You dare," he said.

David put his hands to his forehead and put out as much energy as he could.

_You've all got to see this. The brat's actually fighting him._

Apocalypse batted it all away, but David thought that it took a considerable amount of effort. David ran around the side and tried to muster up all the power he could. He needed to goad him.

_Just give up and die already!_

Apocalypse sneered at him.

"You think you can hurt me," he said, "Perhaps I should show you how wrong you are."

He stretched his hand out towards David. His heart stuttered and a sharp pain pushed him to the ground. David fell to the floor, gasping. He'd known that something like this was going to happen, but he hadn't known that it would happen so quick.

"Time to die," Apocalypse said.

Apocalypse clenched his fist, and David moved in a flurry in his mind. He had to move fast.

_Finally! It's about ti-_

David pushed, and he felt something rip through his head. Then, nothing.

* * *

_**A/N:** Only three more chapters to go. _


	64. Chapter 64

August 19, 1992

Amanda put her hand to her mouth as David was thrown to the floor. She could see him shaking with convulsions. Sharon was struggling to keep in tears. Although Amanda didn't know any of these people besides David, Kurt, Sharon and Rahne, she knew that things were bad. She knew that Alex was married to the girl with the green hair. Now he was bleeding out onto the ground, his wife struggling to fight the person responsible.

Sharon sank down to her knees, the tears finally breaking free. Amanda looked wildly around for something she could do. Her mind went to the man behind her, still under Apocalypse's control. She might not be able to help David, but there was a chance that she could help him, and help others. Alex in particular was still in pain.

Feeling uncertain she put her hand on Sharon's shoulder.

"Sharon," she whispered, "Alex needs us."

Sharon wiped her eyes, taking a deep breath. She was in love with David, and Amanda could see that his struggles seemed to be getting weaker. It was difficult for her. Amanda couldn't imagine what she would be going through if it was Kurt on the ground instead of David.

Sharon deliberately turned away from the scene and towards Archangel. She walked over to him, her hands trembling as they turned into talons. She slipped her fingernail beneath the crystal on her forehead and began to pry it upwards.

"This is...really stuck in there," Sharon panted.

She used her other hand, digging her talons underneath it. Amanda felt sick as she watched the blood bubble up from beneath the crystal. Her talons moved around the crystal, digging deeper and deeper to get it out.

After a minute the crystal came out, leaving a bloody wound on Archangel's forehead. She winced at it and Sharon crushed the crystal in her hand.

"Well, that problem's solved," she said.

She got to her feet.

"We need to get him over to Alex," she said, "It's his best chance."

Amanda swallowed down some of the disgust she'd felt at the sight of Sharon removing a piece of Archangel's forehead. She grabbed his arms and Sharon picked up his legs. Amanda was tired, and Archangel was still heavy, but Alex was still dying.

Archangel's eyes opened and Amanda froze. He groaned and looked at them.

"Sharon...where am I?" he asked, "What's going on?"

"Warren," Sharon whispered.

She began to let go of his legs and signaled Amanda to do the same. Warren winced and sat up. He saw Apocalypse and his eyes widened.

"Sharon, he's trying to-" he said.

"Rule the world through the Legacy virus," Sharon said, "Unfortunately, we know."

He winced and looked at his arms.

"Oh my God, that was all real," he said.

He began to breathe in heavily. Amanda recognized a panic attack when she saw one. She knelt next to him.

"Yes, it was," Amanda said, "And I'm sorry. But right now someone needs your help."

Warren's eyes focused.

"Who are you?" he asked.

Amanda shrugged. It would take too long to explain.

"A friend," she said, "And Alex has been hurt, along with others, and you need to heal him."

Warren nodded.

"Right, right," he said.

He frowned.

"Why's my arm cut up?" Warren asked.

Sharon looked at Amanda.

"Sorry we have to bleed you so much," Sharon said, "But it's not like we have many other choices."

She bit her lip as the X-men cried out in the back. Amanda saw that David's struggles had ceased.

"We all have to do what we need to," she said.

* * *

Charles reached out for his son, but he was still, his eyes glazing over. He shook him desperately, but David's eyes just lolled to the back of his head.

"David!" Charles shouted, "David!"

Apocalypse laughed. Kurt teleported over with Moira. David wasn't responding to any of them. Kurt was screaming and Moira was crying. The other X-men and Brotherhood members had stopped to watch.

He could hear Apocalypse stop laughing.

"I told you you would see your family dead or enslaved Xavier," he said.

Charles wanted to scream, but it died in his throat when David moved his hand. Apocalypse was flung away and David sat up, smiling triumphantly.

"Whoa, do not want to do that again," he said.

"You should be dead!" Apocalypse screamed, "I put enough energy to kill-"

"Three people, yeah," David said.

He tapped his head.

"Three conciousnesses," he said, "I shoved them to the front and braced myself. Man am I glad that worked."

David grinned at his father, his eyes clearer than they had looked in a long time.

"I've broken through the first barriers, and now he's weaker. Dad, Emma, Jean, ready to go in?" David asked, "He just used up a lot of his psychic energy on that blast. As for everyone else-"

His grin broadened as he raised his voice.

"Go for a physical attack," he said.

Charles could only smile in pride at his son, barely believing what had happened. Part of him was angry at him for taking such a big risk, but David had won. He'd been ready and willing to make that sacrifice.

Apocalypse lunged for David and Charles went into his mind. It was dark there, but he could see others. Emma was in the corner, her power reflecting brilliantly off her skin. He saw Jean there with them. The psychic energy around her flared strongly, almost as though she were on fire.

The whole place was pitch black. Charles saw his son standing next to him, his power and mind showing strong and bright. He grabbed his son's hand and, together, they targeted Apocalypse. His mind, despite what David had said, was still strong, and he was very angry.

Charles was determined not to lose though. He'd been losing for a long time, the people he cared about tossed around and hurt. His wife had just been brought back from the brink, and his son had managed to overcome. He was standing his ground now.

He had always meant to leave his sons and students the Institute. He'd hoped that it would show as a beacon of strength and perseverance in a world that was trying to destroy them. That was the legacy he wanted to leave behind, not a legacy of failure and death.

He had never put so much strength into a single attack. Apocalypse was reeling, trying to keep his strength up in the physical realm and the mental one.

"Ready?" David asked.

"Ready," Charles said.

"Ready," Jean said.

Emma merely inclined her head. Charles had never felt so much psychic energy in one area, such a push. All around him the walls of Apocalypse's mind were torn down. It was as though it were all crumbling down. Charles had never felt so much exhilaration.

David cheered next to him, his own power rising up in strength. Charles felt pride well in him again. He'd known what he was doing. In that moment Charles felt so many of his worries for his oldest son vanish. No matter what he had tried to protect him from, his son was not just a brilliant law student anymore. For the first time Charles saw that he was an X-man, and a strong one at that.

The walls began to fall, Apocalypse's defenses destroyed from the inside. Charles got a brief look of the battle on the outside, Lorna, Max and Erik fighting furiously side by side. Although it shouldn't, it made him feel good to see the them together. It might not last long, but for now it did.

Terry and Deadpool were shooting rapidly, Sean screaming at the top of his lungs. Charles smiled and slipped further Apocalypse's mind, shredding it as much as he possibly could. There was little left, and Charles could see the light in Apocalypse's mind dwindling.

However, it was becoming more difficult. Charles frowned. The last bastion of Apocalypse's mind seemed much more secure than the others. In his head he could feel sweat trickling down his brow with the effort.

David was having trouble too. Even Emma looked as though something were wrong. Charles put his hand to his head. He had to find some sort of reserves somewhere. He heard Apocalypse laugh.

"You don't have the energy to do this," he said, "I'll still live. You don't have the strength to finish me, even with all of you."

Charles gritted his teeth.

"Well?" Apocalypse laughed, "Where is your reply now? What does the great Charles Xavier have to say-?"

Fire engulfed him. He sank to his knees, screaming. Charles looked over his shoulder and saw Jean, her hands outstretched and circled with fire.

"You tried to kill Scott's brother," she said, "We have strength enough for this."

Charles swallowed nervously and doubled his efforts. Jean was scorching away the final barriers.

"Everyone!" Charles said.

He felt all of their energy combine, and the last of Apocalypse's mind disintegrated with a scream. Charles could feel himself tumbling out. He opened his eyes back in his body, back on the blazing lawn of the Institute.

Apocalypse was lying on the ground, his body slashed and scorched. Lorna was looking at him uncertainly.

"Is he dead?" she asked.

"Oh, he's dead," David said, his voice grim.

He was about to say something else, but Sharon ran next to him and hoisted David to his feet.

"I told you not to do anything dumb," she hissed.

He smiled.

"At least I left some ass for you to kick," he said.

Sharon threw her hands up before kissing David. Charles raised his eyebrows. His son looked sheepish, but pulled Sharon closer to his side.

"This might be as good a time as any to tell you that I took your advice," he said.

"I'm glad," Charles said.

There was a flash of black smoke. Moira appeared next to them. She moved down to her knees and took Charles in her arms. He didn't say anything, just let his head rest against her neck. He wasn't losing her. She was here, safe in his arms. Everything was going to be alright now.

He opened his eyes. Lorna was moving over to where Alex was. To his surprise he saw that Warren was kneeling next to him.

"Is he...?" Lorna whispered.

"I'm fine," Alex said, pushing himself up, "God, drinking blood is gross. Not that I'm ungrateful-"

Lorna pulled him into a hug. Charles saw Max and Luna rush forward towards their parents. Charles sighed in relief. Warren got up and walked over to Terry and Deadpool. Deadpool made a face at him, and Warren smiled uncertainly.

"Terry, I think I might be able to help you," he said, "But uh, give me a few hours to get over this transfusion."

Terry's eyes widened. Warren wobbled on his feet a bit, but Ororo took his arm.

"I suppose this means that I don't get all your stuff," she said.

"Sorry, but no," Warren grinned.

Ororo laughed and hugged him. A girl with long blonde hair walked up, standing uncertainly outside the group. Kurt teleported over to her and threw his arms around her. He twirled her once in the air before kissing her. Charles blinked and Moira cleared her throat.

"I guess we'll have to ask about that," she said.

"I suppose," Charles said, "But...never mind."

It would be best to leave them alone for the time being. Charles saw Erik staring at Lorna and her family. Erik caught his eye and gave him a sad smile. He couldn't help but wonder what his old friend was thinking.

"Well, all that's left now is the clean-up I suppose," he said, "Although I'm surprised that some authorities haven't shown up."

Charles held Moira closer. Sean looked at him and shrugged: he hadn't had much of a chance to call it in apparently. The question would be raised, of course it would, as would be what Jean had done.

He couldn't bring himself to think about that though.

"Yes," Charles said, "but that's not what's important right now."


	65. Chapter 65

August 20, 1992

"Dad!" Sharon said.

She cradled the phone close to her head. Her father breathed in relief on the other end of the phone.

"You don't need to call me every fifteen minutes," she said, "I'm fine."

"Perhaps," her father said, "or maybe you've gotten yourself into some more trouble."

She shrugged and pulled her legs closer to her chest. Sharon winced at the movement: it hurt worse than she'd thought it would. Her whole body was sore after the events of a few hours ago.

"Nice job keeping Sean's boss out of it," she said, "Sean said he had no idea how you managed it."

"I'm a politician Sharon," her father said, "I have ways. Now, Charles tells me that you're dating his son. Is this true?"

Sharon blushed. She had no idea why, after everything, she felt nervous about this. How had he even found time to talk to Charles about this. It wasn't even light out yet.

"Yes," she said.

"A future lawyer. Not bad," her father said.

She laughed, tucking some of her hair behind her ear.

"Glad you think so," she said.

There were a few noises on the other end of the phone.

"Your mother wants to have a word with you," her father said, "And it appears that one of my aides needs me. Come home soon, alright Sharon?"

"Sure things. I'm catching a ride when they drop off Amanda. That's Kurt's girlfriend," Sharon said.

A bristling noise filled the phone, and Sharon knew her father had shken his head.

"You all suddenly decided you were interested in having boyfriends and girlfriends fast," he said.

"That's not true," Sharon said, "Lots of things just came to fruition."

"In any case, I'm glad you're alright. Now hurry home," her father said, "I love you Sharon."

"Love you too dad," Sharon said.

The phone shifted.

"I'm glad that you're safe," her mother said.

"I wasn't in too much danger," Sharon said.

"That's not the way I hear it," her mother said, "You flew the Blackbird?"

"And then crashed it," Sharon said.

She suddenly realized how that sounded. Sharon rushed to patch up her mistake.

"It was a strategic move though," Sharon said, "I made the choice to do that: it wasn't an accident. Don't worry about the car, okay? I'm perfectly qualified to drive that."

She considered her words.

"And don't tell dad I crashed it either," she said.

Her mother laughed.

"I heard that things with David worked out," she said.

"Yeah," Sharon said, blushing again, "Dad already talked to me about that."

"I'm glad that he isn't a fool," her mother said, "Where is he now?"

"Resting I thi-" Sharon began.

One of the side doors opened and David walked in, running his hand through his hair. He gave her a tired smile, but his feet wobbled when he took a step. There was no way he was going to be able to support himself back to somewhere he could rest.

"I have to go," Sharon said, "Love you mom."

"Love you too."

Sharon hung up and walked over to David.

"You shouldn't be up yet," she said, "They said you needed to rest."

David shrugged. He wrapped his arms around her and laid his head on her shoulder.

"I'm sleeping here," he murmured.

"Don't be silly," Sharon said.

She draped his arm over her shoulders.

"Let's get you upstairs," she said.

He grinned, the expression lazy.

"Stay with me?" he asked, "I still want you close you know."

"Of course," Sharon said.

* * *

Terry put a hand up to her throat. She could just feel the ridges that lined her throat where, before, they had felt like ropes. Her father put a hand on her shoulder.

"Well?" he asked.

She breathed in. Wade was looking at her from across the room, keeping a respectful distance from her father. Terry had made sure her father knew that they were back together, that everything had been smoothed over. It hadn't done much to help her father's temper.

Warren was slumped in a nearby chair. There was barely any color in his face and he looked exhausted. He'd given a lot of his blood in the past few hours, and he'd pushed himself to give her a transfusion. He'd stopped just short of needing a transfusion himself.

At the moment he just needed a lot of rest, but his skin was no longer blue. It was a step in the right direction.

"Terry?" her father said.

Terry grasped her father's hand. She was scared, scared that it hadn't worked. Her wounds were old, and they had been great. Someone had ripped open her throat for goodness sake, and she'd been silenced.

She swallowed and rolled her eyes towards the ceiling. Saying a silent prayer she opened her mouth.

"I think...I think..." she said.

The sound of her own voice stopped Terry short. She couldn't believe that she had spoken. Her father laughed and pulled her into a bear hug. Terry laughed and cried, holding him close.

Behind them Wade grinned and gave her a thumbs-up. Terry would talk to him later. The idea that she could talk to him later was exhilarating. She wanted to hear him say he loved her again, and this time she wanted him to hear her say it.

Warren smiled and started to get up.

"Warren," she said.

Her voice came out raspy. Warren stopped, surprised.

"Thank you," she said.

"It was nothing," Warren said, "I need to make up for the things that I've done somehow."

Terry frowned.

"That wasn't your fault," Sean said.

"Maybe not directly," Warren said, "But...it's just going to be a little hard getting over all of this."

He stumbled as he walked, only to be caught by Ororo. Terry hadn't seen her come in, but Ororo smiled gently at Warren.

"And I'll be there for you," she said, "Now come on, you've lost enough blood today. I can't have you getting into an accident and losing even more."

The two of them walked off. Terry smiled as her father hugged her again.

"This is a miracle," he said, "A downright miracle."

He sounded like a child on Christmas. Terry felt giddy too, and her father beamed at her.

"Don't overtax yourself, okay?" he said.

She nodded, even though she wanted to speak in order to agree. It felt like it had been far too long. Her father kissed her on the forehead. She batted him away playfully, but he just kept grinning.

"Get some rest," he said, "Fury's probably going to try to get our heads when we go back. He won't be happy Hank stopped him. We'll have to be well-rested for that."

She smiled and nodded again. Her father walked off. He stopped short in front of Wade and glared for a minute before moving on.

"He's not gonna forgive me anytime soon, is he?" he asked.

Terry shook her head. Wade shrugged and sat next to her.

"Long as you do," he said.

She pulled his mask up and kissed him. He kissed her back and put his hand underneath her chin.

"Ya know I do love ya, right?" he asked, "I wasn't just saying that."

"I know," Terry said.

"Good," Wade said.

"I love you too," Terry said.

"Double good," Wade said.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding him for a moment.

"My father's right though," she said, "There's probably going to be hell to pay when we see Fury again."

"Hell schmell," Wade said, "After all that, I don't think Fury scares me anymore."

He paused.

"Well, much," he said.

Terry nodded. It was hard not to agree with that.

* * *

Kurt rolled over. Amanda groaned next to him, burying her face in her pillow. Kurt made his movements smaller. Now that she was finally asleep and resting up, he didn't want to disturb her. There had already been enough of that.

He gently disentangled himself from her arms and got up. The past few days had been long, but there was something that he needed to do now. Not everything had been settled and, before he went down to talk to his parents in a few hours, he wanted to settle this.

Kurt began teleporting around the mansion. Most people were asleep, but somehow he knew that she wouldn't be. He saw Alex and Max talking in one of the halls. Alex hugged his son before Max disappeared inside his room. The sight made Kurt smile, but there was more to do.

He checked a few other rooms and hallways before finally finding her in the study.

Mystique was sitting on a sofa, flipping aimlessly through a photo album. Kurt cleared his throat and knocked on the door. She turned and Kurt briefly got a look at the photo she was looking at. He saw his father, aged about thirteen, with a young girl standing next to him. He supposed that was Mystique.

"Oh, it's you," she said.

Kurt teleported so that he was sitting across from her. Mystique clapped her hand on the edges of the photo album. An awkward silence descended between the two of them. Kurt fidgeted, but he already knew what he had to say.

"I'm not angry at you you know," he said.

Mystique shut the album.

"What?" she asked.

"It's not...nice finding out that you're adopted," Kurt said, "It's not nice when you spend so much of your life deliberately not thinking about what you are or aren't. For a long time I didn't understand how anyone could do what you did."

Mystique put the album away, her eyes on the floor.

"But...I heard what you said to Apocalypse," Kurt said, "I was hurt, but at the same time...you were doing what you thought was best for me. Why would you think that leaving me would be best though?"

He tried to make his question as innocent as possible. He didn't want to scare her away. Kurt just wanted to understand.

"I think that you're not being harsh enough," Mystique said, "But...the reason I did what I did...Kurt, your father had just died. I wasn't sure if I could do it myself, and I already saw Lorna struggling with our lifestyle. I couldn't risk that."

"Why didn't you leave?" Kurt asked.

She gave him a long look.

"Because it wasn't who I was," she said, "Which was one of the reasons that I had to leave you here. Do you regret growing up here?"

Her voice was bitter and irritated. Kurt shrank back.

"Did you?" he asked.

Mystique sighed and got up.

"If you'd asked me that question a few years ago, I would've said yes," she said, "But things are so different now...I don't regret what happened. I don't regret leaving either though."

She touched his cheek. Kurt looked up at her. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lorna walk by, Luna's hand clasped in hers. Luna looked at the two of them curiously before her mother ushered her further down the hall.

Mystique hadn't seen them though. She just kept looking at Kurt.

"That girl with the golden hair," Mystique said, "Are the two of you together?"

"Yes," Kurt said.

"Good," Mystique said, "She seems nice, for a human. Just be happy. It's what I wanted for you."

She took her hand away and walked towards the door.

"You don't have to leave you know," Kurt said.

"I do," Mystique said, "It's who I am. I'm glad that you're the kind of person who thinks there's a choice here though."

Without looking back Mystique left the room. Kurt stared after her.

"That was very brave of you."

He closed his eyes.

"I learned from the best mom," he said.

The couch shifted as his mother sat down next to him. He opened his eyes and she took his hand.

"How long were you listening?" he asked.

"Not long," she said.

She squeezed his hand.

"I'm glad you talked to her," she said, "Heaven knows I hated her when I was younger, but she's troubled Kurt. She thought that it would be better for you if you were raised with us."

"She might've been right," Kurt said.

He squeezed her hand.

"I've had a good life mom," he said, "I've had good friends, a good brother, and good parents."

His mother smiled and Kurt hugged her. He could still feel some pain in him, pain that he'd carried around with the knowledge that he had other parents out there. It was faint now, and it felt like he could breathe easier.

"What else could anyone ask for?" he asked.


	66. Chapter 66

August 19, 1992

Remy groaned. It felt like someone had run him down with a semi and then backed up and run him over again. His head in particular hurt. It was like someone had taken a piece out of it.

He reached up and felt a bandage across his forehead. Remy opened his eyes and saw Logan staring at him, his expression less than pleased.

"They had ta carve that dumb thing outta your forehead," Logan said.

"Was it done by a licensed physician?" Remy asked.

"Jean did it," Logan said.

"Den Remy be fine," Remy said.

He winced as a few memories came back.

"Sorry 'bout tryin ta blow ya up," Remy said.

"Ya didn't have much choice in the matter kid," Logan said, "Just how much do ya remember?"

"Not dat much," Remy said, "Kinda blurry, but..."

He grinned.

"Did Rogue kiss me?" he asked.

"Yeah, and nearly killed ya," Logan said.

Remy just smiled and settled back onto his bed.

"She wants ta see ya, for some reason or another," Logan said, "She's on her way down."

"Dis day just keeps getting better an better," Remy said.

Logan gave him a long look, and it wasn't particularly friendly. Remy suddenly remembered that he was talking to Rogue's father-figure. He managed a sheepish expression before Logan began talking again.

"Just know somethin," Logan said, "If ya hurt her, I'll carve your damn heart out and leave it in the woods for the wolves ta eat."

Remy stared at him as Rogue came in. She smiled and Logan gave her a one-armed hug.

"Get some rest kid," he said.

He gave Remy a warning glare before he left the room.

"Dat one messed-up guy," Remy said.

"He's not tha bad," Rogue said.

She sat next to him, biting her lip. Remy pushed himself up further, ignoring the pain in his arms.

"What wrong chere?" he said.

"I almost killed you," Rogue said, "Whatever my reasons, that's not something that I'm ever going to be comfortable with."

Remy laughed. He reached out and twisted some of her hair around his hand. Her eyes slid up to his warily, perhaps afraid that he'd touch her face.

"Remy's careful," he said.

He continued to twist her hair around his fingers.

"Chere, Remy's glad ya didn't kill him," Remy said, "but if ya had, Remy woulda been grateful too."

Rogue stared at him. He just laughed again.

"It's not funny," Rogue muttered.

"Rogue, I woulda killed ya when I was like dat," Remy said, "Remy wouldn't a...Remy don't know how ya recover from sometin like dat. Warren got a long road ahead o him if I remember dat right."

He let go of her hair.

"Ya saved me from dat," he said, "And Remy be grateful. But if ya'd had ta do it another way, well, dat woulda been fine too."

He gave her a lopsided grin.

"And Remy got a kiss outta it," he said, "Dat not bad."

Rogue smiled, but she still looked nervous.

"If we...Remy, kisses ain't gonna figure much in our future, if we got one," Rogue said.

Remy shrugged.

"One ain't bad," he said, "Which brings Remy to da next point o order."

Rogue looked confused and Remy pushed himself up even further.

"Wanna go out ta dinner sometime chere?" he asked.

Rogue smiled.

"Sure thing shugah," she said.

* * *

Lorna tucked Luna into bed. Her daughter was a bit old to be tucked in, but after the events of the night she figured it was only right. Luna snuggled into her bed and pulled the covers over her head.

Turning off the lights Lorna went out into the hall. She closed the door and rested her head against it. Lorna thought of going to her room, falling asleep next to her husband and staying that way for a long time.

However, she saw her father leaving the study. Gathering up her courage Lorna spoke up.

"You're going to leave soon, aren't you?"

Her father stiffened before he turned to her. She stood in the hallway, feeling strangely vulnerable. It had once been the easiest thing in the world to talk to her father. Now every word was tentative.

"I certainly can't stay here," he said.

"You could though," Lorna said.

Her father raised his eyebrows.

"Why would I want to do that?" he asked.

She hesitated before continuing on.

"Angel stayed," she said.

The pain in her voice was raw, and perhaps a note of reproach. Alex had told her a few hours ago what had happened to her oldest friend. Her body was still at the camp. When morning really came, she hoped that she would be able to start making funeral arrangements.

Angel deserved that. She had given up everything to live a life free from terror, taken a great risk so she could have a happy family. She'd done it all because she'd thought that, just maybe, Lorna's choice had been the right one.

"I'm rather different than Angel," he said, "I doubt that I would be welcome by most."

He straightened his sleeves.

"Besides," he said, "there's still a war to fight you know."

"I know," Lorna said, "And, if anything, tonight's taught me that we need to fight it together."

Her father's eyebrows raised even higher.

"Think about it," Lorna said, "By ourselves, neither team could have beaten Apocalypse. But...together, we all managed to take him down. If we weren't working together, then I don't think it could've been possible."

Her father shook his head.

"You have a great deal of faith Lorna," he said, "Too much. Too much faith, too much optimism, and you still don't understand."

"I understand," she said, "I've always understood. I just don't agree."

She bowed her head.

"But you saved my children tonight," she said, "And you tried to save me and then...what you said, out on the lawn...I just want to thank you for all of that."

Lorna hazarded a glance upwards. Her father was looking at her with something that seemed like longing.

"Lorna...once upon a time Angel said something to me," he said, "She told me that, no matter what, I was still your father."

She met his eyes, scared of what he would say next.

"And she's right," he said, "I am your father, and nothing you do or say is going to change that. That makes those children my grandchildren, and unfortunately it makes Alex my son-in-law. If for nothing else, then for you, I will try to prevent anything from happening to them."

Tears welled up in Lorna's eyes. She took a step forwards and hugged her father. He stiffened again, but she didn't let that deter her.

"I wish you'd understand," she said.

"No...I do," her father sighed, "I just don't agree."

Lorna let go. Her father smiled and touched her on her shoulder.

"I'll be gone tomorrow morning," he said, "I can't dwell here too long. Do you understand that?"

She swallowed. For some reason she felt as though she was in her twenties again, a woman who wanted her father to understand her choices. Now, after all of the years that had passed, he finally did.

Lorna just regretted that he didn't agree.

"Yes," she said.

Her father smiled.

"You have amazing children Lorna," he said, "Take care of them, and be patient. Children tend to go their own way."

Lorna smiled back, feeling tears blur her vision. Her father stepped away. Lorna watched him go. When he rounded the corner she bowed her head.

"He'll come back."

Lorna jumped as her daughter walked into the hall. She forced away her tears and looped her hand in Lorna's.

"What do you mean?" Lorna asked.

"I mean he'll come back," Luna said, "He loves you mom. He cares. He's just sad."

"How do you know that?" Lorna asked.

Luna looked up at her mother, her eyes wide.

"The colors," she said, "They're not as sad as they were before. His and the blue lady's."

Lorna turned her attention back to where her father had been, feeling thoughtful. After a moment Lorna squeezed Luna's hand. There were footsteps and Alex came around the corner. He looked exhausted, and he shook his head when he saw the two of them.

"You're spoiling her, letting her stay up this late," Alex said.

"As if you haven't," Lorna said.

She kissed Luna's forehead.

"But it is time to go to bed," Lorna said.

Luna nodded and hurried into her room. Alex walked up behind Lorna and wrapped his arms around her.

"I talked to Max," Alex said, "I think that we're going to have to move down here soon."

"So he wants to be an X-man?" Lorna said.

"He's not sure, but he's leaning towards yes," Alex said, "He doesn't want to rush into anything."

"I'm glad," Lorna said.

Alex held her tighter.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She laughed.

"You're the one who got stabbed," she said.

"No, I mean, with everything that happened," Alex said, "And your father and...things."

Lorna closed her eyes, remembering what her father had said to her, what Luna had told her. She smiled.

"I'm fine," she said.

* * *

"The first floor is almost unlivable," Charles said, "I think that we may need to reconsider postponing the beginning of the semester."

"Only by a week or so," Moira said, "We know a lot of people who can fix that rather easily."

"Not that easily," Charles said, "There was, last I checked, extensive damage to the kitchens. We'd have to cart food in somehow."

"Right, right," Moira said, pinching her nose.

Charles rubbed his temples. He saw his two sons on the other side of the room, talking in low voices. Charles knew that he could ask them what they were talking about, but he felt it better not to. Ever since Kurt had teleported in with Moira he'd been a little quiet and withdrawn. Moira had shaken her head, and it was the only confirmation that Charles needed to know it was best not to ask about it.

He saw David turn Kurt's hand over to where a scar showed on his palm. Kurt did the same with David's hand and managed a weak grin.

_I wonder if we're ever going to find out just what that means_, Charles thought.

_It's between brothers. _

_Perhaps_, Charles thought.

He put his head in his hands.

_Charles, we don't have to fix this all tonight,_ Moira thought, _It can wait until morning. _

_It is morning. _

_I mean when it's light outside, _Moira thought.

He laughed and reached for her hand. Charles rubbed circles over the back of her hand.

_It helps me take my mind off things_, he thought.

_Such as?_ Moira asked.

Charles sighed, wishing that he could just let things go. It wasn't in his nature though, he dwelt on things.

_I nearly lost you again._

Moira leaned her head onto his shoulder.

_I'm never going to leave you Charles,_ she thought, _It's about time you get that into your head. _

_No, not like that,_ he thought.

_I know_, Moira thought,_ I know._

She sighed.

_We nearly lost more than each other this time, _she thought, _We almost lost them._

She nodded towards their sons. He clenched her hand tighter.

_I can't let that happen_, he thought.

_And you didn't_, Moira thought.

David and Kurt hugged. Kurt pulled away and David patted him on the shoulder.

_Charles, look at them_, she thought, _They're so strong, stronger than I know I was at that age. They were the ones who saved us this time around. We didn't save each other. They were the ones who fought through it all to come to us. _

_We raised them to never give up,_ Charles thought.

_We did_, Moira thought, _And that's why, after this, I don't think that I'm going to worry about them so much. Any of them. Terry, Max, Sharon, even Luna. We've given them something to fight for: we've given them a dream, a-_

_A legacy?_ Charles thought.

_Something like that,_ Moira thought.

She got up.

_This can wait until it's light out,_ she said, _Let's just rest for tonight._

Charles smiled at his wife.

"You always did know best," he said.

* * *

**_A/N:_**_What a ride everyone! These past few fics have been some of my most exhausting pieces of work, and yet the most rewarding. It was great to be able to show the evolution of the characters and their world over such a long period of time. I can scarcely believe it's over. _

_I figured out pretty quick that I wanted Apocalypse to be the "finale" of the series. However, I also figured out that Apocalypse's storyline required several characters, including Sinister's establishment as a villain, as well as a gradual build-up. It was one of the things that inspired me to write a much longer series since there were more characters to introduce and flesh out. _

___Luna's comments and hints at a possible peaceful future at the end pay homage to what Magneto is in the current X-men comics last I checked: an anti-hero with a surprisingly good relationship with Lorna. What a complex guy. _

___In this fic, as opposed to others I've written, Mystique was in a rather different position when Kurt arrived onto the scene. Having a child made her realize just how unsuitable her life was for being a mother, leading to her decision to give him to the only person she knew with a stable home life. While her decision might not have been the best one, I certainly wanted to take a closer look at why she'd done it. _

_Now, for the couples. Hank/Carly will always be a favorite for me, and I was glad to finally be able to give them their own story, as well as their own child. Alex/Lorna quickly became a favorite among my readers since the moment I wrote about them in "Sins of the Father." Examining her relationship with Alex, especially given her background as a member of the Brotherhood, was challenging but fun. _

_Charles/Moira is my classic pairing, the rock on which the X-men dynasty is based on in many of my stories. It was great to be able to look at their marriage in a different light, especially in terms of their children. _

_Which brings me to the "next generation" as Princess-Amon-Rae called it. David, Kurt, Max, Luna, Terry, and Sharon. What fun! For all of their complexities and intersecting relationships they seemed to bring everything into perspective. Their relationships with their parents, each other, and their significant others might have been my favorite part of this fic. _

_I'm going to be taking around a two month break now, life's getting crazy. However, I would like to thank all of my readers and reviewers. There are a few in particular I'd like to thank. So now it's that time again, shoutouts! A special thanks to Princess-Amon-Rae, Whylime, Fanatic4Fiction, Orihimie-San, and Chocolate and Caramel! Thanks everyone!_


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